Sinful Illusions

by Morgan James

  I shifted slightly in an attempt to pull away, but he caught me and pulled me back. “Not you, angel. You’re… different.”

  The way he said it didn’t exactly sound complimentary. I wanted to ask whether it was a good thing or not, but part of me was afraid of his response.

  Luckily, he continued. “It’s strange,” he mused. “I’ve never really felt like I fit in anywhere. I’ve never been good with other people, never comfortable around them. But you…” He hesitated for a long moment like he was trying to gather his thoughts. “I’ve never actually enjoyed spending time with anyone until you came along.”

  Deep in my heart, despite all the warnings, I knew I was starting to fall for him. He was crass and harsh and controlling… but also charming, protective, and attentive. I would never call him sweet, but he cared for me in his own way. I wanted to believe that he was, at least part of him, good. He had the ability to be bad—but didn’t everyone? Everyone was capable of both good and evil. Did it make me a bad person to want to love and be loved by a man like Fox?

  One thing I was absolutely sure of was that Fox would never hurt me. Punishment aside, he would never hit me out of anger.

  “I think you have a soft side,” I teased gently.

  He let out a little snort and lightly smacked my bottom. “We both know better.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’m seriously starting to doubt you’re the bad guy everyone believes.”

  Fox turned to look at me. “I’m everything they say I am,” he warned, sending a chill down my spine. “Don’t make me out to be a hero, angel. I’ll only disappoint you.”

  I pondered that for a moment. I’d always wondered what made men like Fox tick—why they were the way they were. “Tell me about yourself.”

  He cocked a brow. “Not a chance. You already know some of the horrible things I’ve done.”

  “I don’t,” I argued. “And that’s not what I’m talking about. I want to know about you. Where you grew up, what your life was like.”

  A mirthless laugh left his throat as he turned his face toward the ceiling. “That’s not a good story.”

  “Tell me. Please.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” I felt my cheeks heat. “I want to know you.”

  His face softened a bit, then he turned away again. “It’s not pretty.”

  “It doesn’t have to be. I just want to know about you.”

  He exhaled, long and slow, gaze fixed on the ceiling. “My earliest memories are from an orphanage back home. I was maybe three, four at the time?”

  “Back home? You’re not from here?” He had no accent, and it surprised me that he wasn’t born and raised in America. Come to think of it, though, I did know he was multi-lingual. He’d spoken in another language a couple times that I’d heard, but I just assumed it was the result of an extensive education pertaining to his business dealings.

  He shook his head. “Romania. My mother was an addict, and I never knew my father. I doubt she did, either. If she did, she never admitted it before her death.”

  “Is that how you ended up in an orphanage?”

  He paused for a moment. “No, she was still alive then. She just couldn’t take care of me, so she gave me away.”

  “I’m sorry.” I cuddled closer, wanting to hold him tight and take all the bad memories away. It was strange, me wanting to save this big, bad man from hurt, but I would do whatever I could for him.

  He brushed his fingers through my hair. “It was dreary. Dismal. There were too many children and too few caretakers. We slept three or four to a bed, never had enough to eat, weren’t taught to read or write.”

  That surprised the hell out of me. Fox was one of the smartest men I knew. “But you’ve done so well. How did you learn?”

  His eyes darkened. “I learned later, when I was an… apprentice, of sorts. I was brought to the States when I was six.”

  “Were they good to you?”

  I somehow already knew the answer, even before he shook his head. “No, Eva. There are many horrible people in this world, and the man who raised me was one of them. He was responsible for making me the way I am.”

  Whoever he’d been with had stripped a young boy of his innocence, and Fox wholly believed he was a monster because of what he’d endured. I wanted to show him that there was good inside of him. Just as he was capable of evil, he could be good, too. “If you want to talk—”

  “No.” His voice was fierce, and he clutched at me before gentling his touch. “It’s best left in the past. Trust me on this, angel. He’s gone, and that’s all that matters.”

  I forced one more question from my throat. “Did he hurt you?”

  “Pain is relative, angel. Each trial makes us stronger, teaches us a lesson.”

  “And what lesson did you learn?”

  His eyes were wide, unblinking as he stared at the ceiling. “To never trust anyone but myself.”

  Fierce protectiveness welled up. “You can trust me.”

  Slowly, he turned to look at me. His hand moved to the back of my head, and his thumb stroked along my temple. “I know, angel.”

  He brushed a soft kiss over my lips, then tucked my head into the crook of his neck. I draped one arm over his chest, careful to avoid the wound along his side. Resting my fingers at the base of his neck, I felt the thrum of his blood pulsing against my fingertips. Moving my hand lower, I splayed my fingers wide over his chest. There was a heart deep inside him—a good one—and I was determined to find my way into it, no matter what it took.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Fox

  I spent the day ensconced in my office, pulling every thread we’d been able to dig up in hopes of tracking down this mysterious Araña. Grigori was correct; no one seemed to know anything. There was no information on where the man was from or who he was, no affiliation to the criminal underworld at all. Everyone had a past—except Araña. It was as if the man was a ghost.

  I assumed that orders were passed from Araña to a select few delegates who then hired lower-level associates to carry out whatever the man dictated. The men and women who worked as transporters and handlers were paid well to do their job and ask no questions under the threat of death. In doing so, it kept Araña’s identity and whereabouts closely guarded. Though the name would imply he was Latin American, there was no evidence yet to support it. All we’d managed to catch wind of were whispers of a mysterious figure pulling strings from behind the scenes. The man was like the goddamned Wizard of Oz, and I wanted to rip his kingdom apart piece by piece.

  Striding down the hall, I caught sight of Eva leaving the living room. Quickening my pace, I caught up to her in less than five seconds. She threw a look over her shoulder, and her eyes went soft as they landed on me. Looping one arm around Eva’s waist, I pulled her into the closest room, then pressed her up against the wall. She automatically tipped her head up, and I took her mouth in a hard kiss. I was panting by the time I pulled away, my cock pressing against the fly of my slacks. I leaned down so my forehead was flush with hers. “I can’t wait another minute.”

  Her hands moved to my chest and shoved gently, and I reluctantly pulled back. Straight white teeth cut into her lower lip as she leaned away from me, searching my gaze. “It’s only been six days since Dr. Marlowe replaced your stitches.”

  “Six days too long.” I lifted my hand to cup the back of her head. “I’m fine, I promise.”

  Worry filled her eyes. “I don’t know…”

  “I do,” I said firmly. “Tonight, I want to take my time with you, go slow.”

  I wanted to spend the next several hours worshipping her, touching and kissing every inch of her, feeling her hands and mouth on me. It’d been torture having her next to me every night, not being able to roll over and slide inside her the way I wanted. I was going out of my mind with need, and I couldn’t wait another fucking minute.

  A tiny smile curved her lips. “I didn’t know the word slow was in your voc
abulary.”

  “Only when it comes to you, angel. I want to spend all night bringing you to the edge over and over.”

  A shudder racked her body, and I tightened my hold on her. Dropping my head, I spoke low next to her ear. “Go to my room and get ready. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

  “All right. You win.” She looped her arms around my neck and kissed me once more before pulling away and sliding through the open doorway.

  I watched her go, a fierce possessiveness rolling through me. There wasn’t a single thing I wouldn’t do for that woman, and I wondered if she knew it. She hadn’t made another attempt to leave, instead spending every night in bed next to me. I wanted her to be free, yet I knew it wasn’t safe for her. Not yet. Until I found Araña, she needed to stay here with me where I could keep an eye on her at all times. I knew she didn’t like it, but I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I wasn’t willing to risk her safety, even to give her a sense of freedom.

  With a sigh, I pushed off the wall and straightened my jacket before heading into the hallway. Xavier stepped out of a darkened doorway a second later as if he’d been hovering there waiting. “Sir, I have news on Sebastian.”

  The smile I’d been wearing slipped from my face. Goddamn it. I swear to God, one of these days I was going to have to kill the idiot for hurting Marcella. He’d put her through so much already. I hoped she would find someone else—someone better—before he dragged her down with him.

  I changed directions and headed toward my office, motioning with my head for Rodrigo to follow. As soon as we were ensconced in the room, I turned to him. “What’s the bastard doing now?”

  “According to recent travel logs, he’s been to North Dakota twice over the past six months. He contracted a private jet and flew into a small airfield in Bathgate.”

  North Dakota? What the fuck was in North Dakota? He didn’t exactly strike me as a hunter, unless it was big game. There were ski lodges scattered around the north, so perhaps he had a ski bunny waiting for him somewhere up there. “Vacation?”

  “The first trip was approximately five days; the second time was three days.”

  Most guide trips for hunters tended to be a week or so long, so we could pretty safely rule that out. “I assume Marcella wasn’t with him?”

  Xavier shook his head. “However, I discovered that Masterson traveled with him.”

  “Both times?” Xavier nodded, and I thought it over for a second. “How close to the border is Bathgate?”

  “Extremely.”

  It wasn’t a red flag, exactly, but it was… different. Many ski resorts were open during the fall—but not operable for skiing. That still didn’t rule out that Moreau had a mistress tucked away in the mountains. But why would Masterson travel with him? Perhaps as a cover? Almost immediately, I dismissed it. Sebastian traveled whenever and wherever he wanted; he didn’t need to use another man as cover. Unless there was something more at play.

  “Anything of interest happening around those times?”

  “Nothing of significance that I can find.”

  The prickling at the back of my neck resumed. “And from there—where did they go when they left the airfield?”

  “Working on that.”

  It was no secret that every illegal substance known to man was funneled through obscure places with little to no security. Masterson was heavily into drugs, and I wondered if Moreau was the same. They both ran in the same circles, so it wouldn’t be a surprise. “Check into it. See if anyone else has heard anything and let me know. See if you can find anyone else who’s been there recently.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Not at the moment. And, Xavier?” I threw a look his way. “No interruptions tonight.”

  He nodded and left, and my pulse kicked up as I made my way through the house and upstairs. Outside my room, I drew in a deep breath and tried to still my nerves. I couldn’t put a finger on why I was so anxious, exactly. I wanted to chalk it up to going without sex for several days, but I knew it wasn’t the reason I was so worked up.

  Before I’d brought Eva into my life, I’d gone months without sex. She was the first woman to ever touch me, but I knew it was more than even that rare physical connection. It was Eva herself—being with her, spending time with her. I wanted all of her, every way. It physically hurt to be away from her. Noir was fine, but it wasn’t lost on me that I hadn’t devoted nearly as much time to finding Araña as I should be. While he was important, Eva was more so. I wanted to spend every available moment with her.

  I threw open the door, and my breath caught at the sight of Eva on her knees beside the bed. I swore I could see her like this every day for the rest of my life and never tire of it.

  Stepping inside, I closed the door behind me and locked it before striding toward her. “You look so beautiful like this, angel. So perfect.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  I brushed one hand over her head, running my fingers through the silky strands of her hair where they draped over her shoulder. “Stand up, angel.”

  I held out my hand and helped her to her feet, then placed her hand over my heart. “Undress me.”

  Her eyes flicked to mine, and her hand slid slowly over my pecs to the button at the top of my shirt. She slipped it free of its hole, then continued downward until the fabric gaped open. Slipping her hand inside, she slowly pushed it over my shoulders and down my arms. It fluttered to the floor, and she grasped my belt next, pulling it free and dropping it by our feet.

  My cock jumped to attention as she rubbed one hand over my fly, then popped the button and slid my zipper down. A small growl welled up my throat, but I forced myself to remain still as she worked the waistband over my hips and down my legs. Toeing out of my shoes, I stepped out of the pool of fabric. All that remained were my boxers, and she licked her lips as she delved beneath the elastic and pulled them down. My cock sprang free, brushing against her belly.

  Completely divested of clothing, I took her wrists in mine, sliding my hands up to her shoulders, then back down again. “Get on the bed, angel.”

  She did as I asked, crawling to the middle of the mattress and lying back, her pale golden hair spread over the pillow. Taking a step closer, I stroked the bone of her ankle. “Spread those legs, gorgeous. Arms over your head.”

  She opened for me, spread eagle on the wide bed, and it was almost more than I could take. Reaching under the mattress, I grabbed one velvet lined cuff. “Trust me?”

  She lifted her head slightly, a tiny smile on her face. “Of course.”

  “Relax.” It felt like forever since I’d had her like this, open and ready for me. I planned to draw out her pleasure until we were both exhausted.

  I snapped the cuffs around her wrists, securing them to the bedposts. In less than thirty seconds, she lay spread eagle in front of me, ready to be devoured. Trailing my fingers up her calf, I smiled as her eyes fell closed and her body gave a little shudder of pleasure. She responded to the tiniest of touches, and I fucking loved it. There wasn’t another woman on this planet as passionate and open as Eva. She was everything I’d ever wanted and then some. I didn’t want to examine my motives too closely, but I felt the overwhelming need to keep her in my bed, in my life.

  Standing at the foot of the bed, I stared down at her as I took myself in one hand. Her tongue swiped over her bottom lip as she watched me drag my hand from the base of my dick to the very tip. I swept my thumb over the tip, smearing the tiny drop of precum over the head, and I could tell by the way her legs shifted restlessly that her gaze was fixed on me. “See something you like, angel?”

  “You know I do.” Her response was low and thick with need.

  Achingly slow, I drew my hand down and back up again, watching as she arched slightly, her breasts thrusting forward. I loved drawing out the anticipation. I loved making her beg for it. “Have you been a good girl, Eva, or have you been naughty?”

  “I’ve been bad,” she moaned out. “So bad.”

&n
bsp; I crawled onto the mattress and knelt between her legs. I could smell her before I even got close to her, and I found her folds drenched when I ran my fingers through them. “Do you know what bad girls get?”

  “Show me,” she panted, pushing her hips forward, searching for my fingers.

  I loved that we had barely gotten started and she was already worked up, already anticipating what was to come. I leaned forward and pressed a kiss under her navel. “I think you need me to fill this pretty pussy.”

  I kissed my way downward, swirling my fingers over this sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. “I can’t wait to—”

  My words abruptly cut off as the window to my right cracked, and the unmistakable sound of a rifle discharging followed half a second later. Instinctively, I threw my body over Eva’s as another volley of semi-automatic gunfire followed the first. The glass in the windows held as it was meant to, and I rolled off the bed, shoving my feet into my pants and reaching for the pistol in my nightstand.

  Eva’s eyes were wide and glassy with fear. “W-what’s happening?”

  My gaze skated over her, still restrained to my bed. Fuck. Tucking the pistol into my waistband, I grabbed up a blanket and threw it over Eva to cover her. I fucking hated leaving her like this, but I had no choice. The panic room was too far away; we would never make it past whoever was infiltrating the house, and I couldn’t waste time right now untying her. “I’m sorry.”

  Her eyes widened further as panic crept into her tone. “What are you doing?”

  “Stay here,” I cautioned. “I’ll be right back.”

  “You can’t leave me like this!” Eva thrashed against her restraints. “Fox!”

  “Trust me, angel. You’ll be safe here,” I promised.

  Ignoring her terrified shouting, I locked the door behind me as I flew into the hallway, checking both directions for perpetrators. Whoever was here had a lot of firepower. The report of pistol shots ricocheted through the hallways, echoing up from the foyer. On silent feet, I made my way through the darkened house to the top of the stairs.