by Lynda Chance
Chapter Six
A suffocating sensation lodged under Erin’s breastbone; she was unable to speak. At her silence, Max’s brows came together in a formidable frown as he pushed off the desk and took the steps that brought him in front of her. Her breath caught as he snatched her wrist and locked his fingers around it. “Do you understand?”
Dizziness assailed her as his scent enveloped her; her tongue darted out and slipped across dry lips as she began nodding her head. She didn’t like her fear, but suddenly she appreciated the danger of the situation she was in and knew she needed to be more careful in her responses. “I understand,” she mumbled.
He stared down into her eyes for a moment and then the hand that held her wrist tightened into a band of steel as he began pulling her farther inside the room. He pressed something under his desk and she heard the sound of a latch releasing. A paneled door behind his desk popped open as if by magic and he led her inside a small room that she hadn’t even realized was there—and then he kicked the door shut behind them.
Erin had no time to glance around as he twirled her until her knees and butt landed against something solid. She realized it was a sofa—the back of a sofa—her heart began to thud as she took rapid breaths. Forcing his legs between hers, Max released her wrist and planted his hands on either side of her, his chest pressing against hers. He tipped her chin up with one finger as she tried valiantly to control her intake of oxygen as her neck was tilted to an almost uncomfortable angle.
His lips firmed; not a bit of pleasantness showed on his face. “So I ask you again, Erin. Are you my wife?”
Now too apprehensive to answer any other way, she closed her eyes for a single second before opening them. “Yes.”
He released her chin as he lowered his mouth, enclosing her lips in a kiss that left her no room to think, no room to be afraid, no room to deny him. He tasted her fully as he encompassed her breast. His thumb ran across the tip and lightning speared through her. His other hand cupped the back of her head, controlling her fully as he took a kiss that left her completely shattered.
His head lifted and her lids snapped open. She found him staring into her eyes as he caressed her nipple. He took one stroke, two strokes—and then his fingers clamped around her breast in utter possession. “Yes, you’re my wife—and I find that I like that more than I’d ever imagined.” His lips flattened as he altered his stance to come just that much closer. “Tell me that you understand who makes the rules in our marriage, Erin. Tell me now.”
She didn’t hesitate. “You do.”
“Tell me you understand that what I do, I do to protect you.”
Her pulse raced as she stared back at him. “I—I understand.”
His eyes glinted as if taking her measure. “Very good. This is rough country, love. I need to know that when I issue an order, you’ll obey that order unstintingly. Your life may depend on it—understand?”
She nodded her head.
His hand left her breast with a caress as the back of his knuckles trailed up her neck. Staring into her eyes, his touch moved to her throat—and stayed there. He opened his mouth and his voice dropped an octave, becoming drenched in heat. “I told you yesterday that I would do everything within my power to make you happy, didn’t I?”
Her heart began beating to a ferocious time as his tone changed; she nodded her head once again.
At her agreement, Max trailed his finger upward and swiped it over her lower lip, back and forth, and Erin once again had a feeling that he almost couldn’t stop himself from touching her so intimately.
“Come,” he said gruffly. He led her around to the far wall and released her, making sure she was balanced on her own two feet.
She took the opportunity to glance around. The single sofa was the only seating in the hidden room; a coffee table sat in front with matching side tables that held gilded lamps. The lighting was subdued and the walls of the room were decorated in artwork—and Erin knew she was looking at the real thing. She gasped when she recognized a Monet, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it as Max stepped into her personal space once again. “Are you good with numbers, amor?”
Numbers? Her pulse escalating, she shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose.”
“Seventy-five—nineteen—sixty-three,” he bit out harshly, firing the numbers at her.
Erin stared at him blankly—she had no clue to his meaning. “I’m sorry?”
“Repeat and memorize: seventy-five—nineteen—sixty-three.”
She felt mesmerized as his eyes held hers. “Seventy-five—nineteen—sixty-three,” she parroted.
“Again. And this time memorize it,” he said sharply.
She closed her eyes and envisioned the numbers in a futile attempt to make them stick—whatever the hell they meant. “Seventy-five—nineteen—sixty-three.”
“Good,” he nodded. “Now turn around, open the safe, and I’ll show you where your passport will be kept from now on.”
She swung around and immediately noticed the safe, now that he had pointed it out. The numbers flew out of her head as she looked back at him in question. He was entrusting his personal documents to her? His passport undoubtedly, and everything else one would keep in a locked safe? She had access to her passport if she wanted it? He’d purposely scared her for no reason? Christ—she didn’t know if she was relieved or—or what exactly?
She stood completely still, her nerves pitched to a higher degree.
He studied her as his lips twisted a bit. “Open it.”
“I—I can’t.”
“Why not?”
She racked her brain for the numbers. Normally she was good with numbers, but the situation she was in? She could barely think straight, let alone remember a string of unrelated numbers. It began with seventy-five, for sure. “You’ve made me nervous. Usually I—”
Her voice trickled to a halt as she felt the heat of his body behind her, his hands landing on her hips. Instinctively, she looked at the numbered dial. She’d grown up with a safe in the house, but was never allowed to touch it when her father was alive—and after his death, she’d never had a reason to.
He walked her forward, his legs pushing hers until there was nowhere else to go—and no space at all between her spine and his chest. He wrapped one arm around her waist as his mouth dropped to her ear. “Have you ever unlocked one before?”
“No.”
His hand slid up from her stomach until he was palming her breast again. “But you had a locker at school when you were a kid, right?”
“I—I did,” she stuttered, his words tickling her ear as his intimate touch scattered her nerves. “But it didn’t have a lock on it.”
“Why the hell not?”
“It was a private school—parochial.”
As if that answered his question as she’d meant it to, he said, “Ahh. So now you learn.” His hand trailed down to her stomach again, his thumb resting between her breasts and his pinky searching for and finding her navel through the thin material of her shirt. Heat traced down her spine as she stared unseeingly at the safe in front of her. His mouth came to her ear again. “I’m going to show you, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered. Lord, after the scare he’d given her and then the relief, she’d let him show her just about anything.
Holding her enclosed within the circle of his arms, his hands landed on the dialing mechanism. She was forced all the way into his arms, his biceps enclosing her shoulders. “Start at zero. Spin it four times to the left and stop at seventy-five.” As he gave the instructions, his hands mirrored his words. “Now turn it three times to the right and stop at nineteen.”
“Okay,” she agreed, even though it was his fingers dancing over the dial. She couldn’t take her eyes off his hands—they were gorgeous. Strong, tanned, masculine. Her pulse began spinning in triple time.
“And now two times to the left again stopping on … what number, Erin?”
She had no clue. She had only one thought banging ar
ound in her brain—this had to be some kind of a trick. He was trying to make her feel safe by showing her that she wasn’t his prisoner. She didn’t believe it. She could feel the edge of danger around him even now. A million bucks said he’d remove her passport from the safe later. He wouldn’t leave it there for her to be able to take back—would he?
He tipped her chin around with a finger until his eyes were able to catch hers. “You don’t remember, do you?”
Her heart was banging wildly. “No,” she admitted on a whisper of breath.
He bent down and kissed her lips. Quickly. Just one small nip of her lips before he lifted his head again. “Answer this question, Erin, before we go any further. I’m showing you how to get in the safe … why?”
Agitated, she breathed heavily, knowing she was supposed to give him an answer. “Because … because my passport is in there.”
He shook his head. “That’s only part of it. Try again.”
She worried her bottom lip. “I don’t know.”
His eyes landed on her lips and his nostrils flared before snaring her gaze with his again. “Because you’re my wife. What’s mine is yours—understand that? And I want you to feel safe here—and if access to your damn passport helps you to feel more secure, then you need to have that.”
She sighed audibly in relief and continued to watch him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, love. Sixty-three is the number you’re looking for.” His eyes snapped back to the dial as he released her chin. “Now you spin it to the right—it will stop and unlock.”
As if the inanimate object were obeying his directions, the safe popped open.
With one hand, he pushed the door all the way open; the other hand wrapped around her waist again. Erin glanced inside and gasped. Inside the safe, there were documents as she’d suspected—but they only took up a small area of one shelf.
The other shelves were filled to the brim with valuables. Tons and tons of valuables—jewelry, rings spilling from an opened box, gemstones that were cut but not mounted. A row of gold bullion, sacks of what undoubtedly contained coins, stacks of American bills and other currencies that were foreign to her. She recognized stock certificates, US savings bonds in large denominations, as well as, what appeared to be, bearer bonds. Her heart thumped in stunned disbelief, but she tried to school her features.
He reached past her and retrieved her passport. “You see, darling? All safe.” After showing it to her briefly, he put it back exactly where he’d picked it up and then he spun her around to face him.
Her hands landed on his shoulders looking for stability. Her thoughts were scrambled, relief riding the coattails of fear and now this—his masculine, provocative scent making everything feminine within her stand up and take notice.
His hand sank into her hair as his eyes glittered down with ill-concealed restraint. “I left you alone last night at your request,” he announced, apropos of nothing to her way of thinking.
“Yes, you did.”
He moved his hips against hers as his features hardened. “How much more time?”
She knew what he was asking and a flurry of butterflies exploded in her system. “I—”
“There’s no reason to wait any longer,” he announced as if that was that.
She inhaled a ragged breath as her eyes slipped closed. His thumb began swiping back and forth across her jawline, delivering a vicious hit to her equilibrium. She kept her eyes closed as she tried to get her senses in order. How could she continue to stall when stalling was the last thing her hormones were screaming at her to do?
As he continued to hold her with one hand, she heard a dull jingle behind her. His hands came up behind her neck as she felt something cold and heavy settle low on her throat. She sucked in a breath and refused to open her eyes as his mouth dropped to her ear. One arm wrapped around her waist again; the other settled at the base of her throat directly over her pulse. His words were hot and fierce and produced an answering response within her. “You can have the piece—blue’s your favorite color. You’ll wear it in my bed tonight.”
Her eyes flew open and first focused on the hot lust apparent on his features. She swallowed hard and looked down—and began fingering a necklace of sapphires and diamonds that hung around her neck, brilliant and blue against her pale skin. How had he known that blue was her favorite color? Why had he cared to know? Whatever the reason, the necklace was indeed beautiful—but she couldn’t be bought. She dropped her hand and shook her head, breaking away and taking a step back from him.
He allowed her the space and dropped his hands away. “I don’t know why you think waiting will change anything. It won’t—”
“I’m not ready,” she broke in, lifting her hands, attempting to remove the chain from her neck.
He stopped her by grasping both her hands in his. She stilled as he watched her with a penetrating look. Reaching down, he kissed her hands. “Keep it, love.”
“I can’t. I’m not ready—”
“It makes no difference. The necklace was purchased for you.”
“But—”
His features hardened. “There are no ‘buts.’ You’re my wife and the piece is yours.”
Erin barely managed to answer past the lump in her throat. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
He inclined his head and waited.
She cleared her throat and lifted the cell phone she’d been clutching. “I’d like to call my mother now. There’s really no need to put it off.”
“Of course, it will be as you wish.”
Would it really be as she wished? She wished for romance, love, heat … with no hidden agenda from him. “Then is it okay if I don’t tell her quite yet that we … that we’re married?”
His scrutiny became more intense. “How will putting it off help the situation?”
Erin held his eyes as she answered. “I don’t want her to worry about me. She gets very anxious about all of us. She worries, even at the best of times. Please tell me that your revenge doesn’t extend to her.”
“Of course not—it’s business between men. Your mother doesn’t have anything to do with it, nor would I want to burden her with the knowledge of it. But love, I see no good in postponing this. Surely you could communicate to her that you were swept off your feet and are, even now, unbelievably happy?”
Unbelievably happy? As he voiced the overly optimistic opinion in that ultra-smooth voice of his, Erin answered, “She’d never fall for that and I’m not sure I could sound convincing.”
He raised a single eyebrow. “No?”
She shook her head.
To her alarm, he once again moved into her personal space. He lifted her wrist and gently but firmly pulled her to the paneled door, where he reached out and locked it. Swinging her around until her spine was flush against the wood, he tipped up her chin. “You want me to help you sound convincing?”
Her breath tripped in her throat. Okay, Erin, you have a plan and you have to stick to it. From this moment on—she’d make him fall in love with her if it was the last thing she did. “H-how would you do that?” She asked, letting the tumultuous emotions she was feeling reflect in her tone.
As her voice cracked, his gaze dropped to her lips and the last remnant of a smile on his face dissolved. His fingers left her chin and trailed down to press against the pulse she knew was probably showing in her throat. As he made the move, she sucked in a breath and when she did, a sudden tension overtook his features.
Wow—that look on his face. Maybe … maybe tricking him into falling for her could be easier than she suspected. Her sexual experience was limited, damn it, but she did have a strong female intuition. And it was telling her now that he was the kind of guy who’d get off on taking total care of his woman—his rant earlier about rules and relationships told her as much. Guys like him naturally thought of women as being the weaker sex. Look at him now—reacting to her tiny, feminine response with a display of corded muscles and a sharpened focus that produce
d a primal look of intent on his face.
Hmmm—he had a lot to learn. Thinking she was weak would be his downfall.
And the beauty of her plan was that she wouldn’t have to contrive anything, because it was a fact that she was nervous and worried. She was apprehensive and still distressed by the unfamiliarity of the situation. And on top of all of that, she couldn’t control the butterflies in her midsection and the heat between her thighs when he touched her—heat that was telling her she wanted to sleep with him again. Yeah, she was experiencing all the womanly things that would make her seem weak to him—and she would use that to manipulate him. Certainly she could go the opposite way. She could straighten her spine and force her chin up and cuss him like a sailor, but that wouldn’t be the smart way. He’d already warned her that animosity wouldn’t work with him. No, she had only one weapon in her arsenal—the fact that he wanted to sleep with her. Thus, he left her little choice. So when he sank his free hand into her hair as his eyes blazed into hers, she fell into helpless, feminine mode with little to no effort on her part.
As he looked down at her, their faces were only inches apart. Abruptly and forcefully, his hips pushed into hers and she felt his erection pressing against her stomach, his belt buckle biting into her skin. A transformation came over his features and his mouth set, his eyes flaring with heat. His gaze dropped to her lips as his nostrils flared, and the memory of what it felt like to have him inside of her grabbed hold and wouldn’t let go.
As he pushed his hips against her, she felt a trickle of awareness multiply into streams of desire. Her breathing grew heavy as his followed suit, matching hers—showing her without a doubt that she affected him sexually, too. As he continued to lean into her, his fingers tightened in her hair as another tremor of heat slid down her spine. The look he gave her turned molten as he said, “I’m human enough to know I should be feeling some extent of guilt for stealing you, but I’m not. You’ve made it extremely easy to forge ahead with my plans from the second I saw you. I’m having no problem imagining taking you to bed—over and over again.”
Heat blossomed between her thighs and she knew that no matter what lay between him and her brothers, it didn’t have anything to do with the raw feelings of lust that volleyed like a powerful aphrodisiac between them. “So you admit it? That you stole me?”