by Gwyn McNamee
He glowers at me over the top of his fingers.
That’s right. I figured you out, motherfucker.
The drugs were never his. There wouldn’t have been any need to steal them off the ship if he had paid for them and arranged for the shipment. He’s taking them from someone else, and by the looks of the size of the shipment and the amount of money we’re talking, we’re not dealing with pissant street-corner drug dealers here. He’s ripping off someone big. Someone who is probably just as dangerous as him, if not more so.
It’s not the brightest way to try to get into the drug game.
But I bite back that comment because God knows I don’t need this man any angrier at me than he is right now.
“Now, Mr. Pike, this is quite the dilemma. You see, I am in need of the items you were paid to procure for me. Now, I no longer have them, and I have individuals waiting for their delivery.”
I nod but keep my mouth shut. I don’t have an answer to that problem. Grace shifts uncomfortably in her chair. She knows we don’t too.
“How do you suggest we remedy the situation, Mr. Pike?”
“Well…” I run my hand back through my hair. “We have an offer for you. A proposition, really.”
He opens his hands. “A proposition from the pirates. I can’t wait to hear this.”
Asshole.
“Grace is now in sole control of her family shipping business. Her father is dead, and her mother is uninvolved. Her only sibling is out of the country. The ship is hers to do with as she pleases.”
Arturo’s dark eyes start to warm. He can see where I’m going with this.
“She has offered the use of her ship to you to make up for any losses incurred. If you can arrange another shipment…”
Or should I say, arrange a shipment in the first place, but I bite that back.
“Perhaps we can replace what was lost. We will ensure it gets here.”
He drops his hands to his lap. “It’s an interesting proposition, Mr. Pike and Ms. Albright, but that doesn’t help the angry clients I have right now who want their product immediately.”
“I know it doesn’t.” I shake my head. “Unfortunately, all I can say is you have to use your very impressive negotiating skills to work that out with them. What I’m offering you can not only make up for this incident, but it will also benefit you greatly in the future.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “You mean Ms. Albright intends to allow this to continue even after her debt is repaid?”
She shifts forward in her seat, and her eyes flick over to mine before she nods. “Yes. I want Warwick’s debt worked off as quickly as possible. This should help move things along.”
Arturo’s eyes dart back and forth between us. “And why, Ms. Albright, are you putting your neck on the line for the guy who apparently robbed your ship.”
That’s the million-dollar question.
I hold my breath and wait for a response to him.
“Because Warwick doesn’t deserve to be stuck under the thumb of a piece of shit like you.”
Oh fuck.
Arturo’s men gasp, and his eyes widen.
You can’t say something like that to Arturo Marconi and expect to walk out of here alive. I jump to my feet and put myself between Grace and Arturo. I hold up my arm. “I’m sorry. She didn’t mean…”
But instead of the gunfire I’m anticipating, the sound of laughter fills the room, and Arturo drops his head back.
What the fuck is going on?
He presses his hand against his chest and chuckles. “Oh, Ms. Albright, you gave me a much-needed laugh. While I appreciate your honesty and your desire to stand up for your,” he looks me up and down, “friend, you can certainly see my concerns with you offering me something like this out of the blue. I don’t know you. I don’t know your business. I don’t know anything about this proposal. And yet you expect me to just accept it and let you walk out of here as if you haven’t cost me millions of dollars.”
I relax my stance and shift so Arturo can see her again.
She gives him a hard smile. “I would never expect you not to do your due diligence. You’re a businessman, and I’ve been doing the accounting for my father’s business for a very long time. I’m aware of how important it is to know everything you can about who you’re getting into business with. We will stay here until you’ve made your decision.”
He flashes a grin at her and then directs his attention to me. “Mr. Pike, it seems you found a very excellent business partner. When you came in here begging my uncle for help all those years ago, had you had someone like her at your side then, you may be in a very different position now.”
Don’t I know it.
Arturo pushes to his feet and reaches across his desk, extending a hand. “Give me a little while to look into this and make a decision. In the meantime, I’ll provide you accommodations.”
I take his hand warily, and Grace rises and holds hers out. He leans in and presses a kiss against the back of her hand.
My blood boils.
His fucking lips on her.
I want to leap across the desk and throttle him, but instead, I reach for her hand and tug her toward me and away from him.
“This way.” One of the goons motions toward the door, and I turn and follow him, dragging Grace behind me.
She leans into me so he won’t be able to hear her. “What just happened back there?”
I press my lips to her temple. “We got a momentary reprieve.”
24
Grace
“Stay here. We’ll bring in food, and there’s clothing in the closet and dressers.” Arturo’s goon turns and slams the door shut behind, leaving me and Warwick alone in the surprisingly opulent prison cage.
It’s more like a spa resort room, actually, but there’s no doubt it’s a prison all the same. Just like the cabin on the Calista, this room appears to offer no way out except the door we just entered through.
I didn’t know what to expect when Arturo said we had to stay, but it wasn’t this.
A large four-poster bed and heavy oak furniture fill the room. All we know is they had brought us to some sort of house. We were shoved into an SUV and blindfolded. Something I never want to experience again. But Warwick held my hand and stroked it softly with his thumb, reassuring me that we would be fine, that we’d offered Arturo a good deal and he wouldn’t do anything rash.
Yeah, right.
I would like to believe him, but I don’t know the man, and from what I’ve seen and heard, I don’t exactly hold out much hope we’re getting out of this unscathed.
Being brought here raises my hopes slightly.
If he were planning to kill us, why bring us somewhere so beautiful and opulent? Why not just end it now?
“What is this place?”
Warwick drops my hand and tries the door handle. “It’s locked.” He ventures farther into the room. “I’m not sure where we are, but I think it might be Arturo’s house or maybe a safe house of some sort?”
That was my guess too. “And we’re stuck here until Arturo makes a decision.”
He turns back to me and frowns. “It appears that way.”
My stomach clenches the farther I move into the room. Captive again—this time at the hands of a true madman.
I pause at the foot of the bed. “I guess there are worse places to be.”
Warwick’s hard black eyes have softened to a steely gray, and his shoulders slump a little bit. “You mean like being held hostage in that shithole warehouse I live in?”
I don’t answer because I’m not entirely sure what will come out of my mouth if I try to speak. Things have changed so much in the last few days. I’ve changed so much. I’m not the girl he pulled off that ship. I’m someone else and something else. Something stronger. Someone with my eyes truly open to the real world for the first time in a long time. Someone who can see him for what and who he truly is, even if he can’t.
But it doesn’t change how we met. It d
oesn’t change what he did. It doesn’t change that he will always be the man who took me hostage, even if he does have good buried inside him, hidden under the wall of tattoos and short-tempered anger.
Where does that leave us? What kind of future can we have?
I can imagine how that conversation would go…
“How did you two meet?”
“Oh, he kidnapped me.”
I chuckle to myself, and he narrows his eyes on me.
“Grace, are you okay?”
Tears finally well in my eyes for the first time in a long time. I shake my head and try to swallow through a dry throat.
Am I okay?
“Is this about what happened before?”
I know what he is referring to—the elephant in the room. The fact that we did something incredibly irresponsible.
But it isn’t even about that.
I’ll deal with the fallout of that later if it comes.
This is about everything.
His quick, determined steps close the distance between us, and he takes my face in his hands. “I’m so sorry about everything, Grace. If I could go back, if I could do it all over again I…”
“No.” I shake my head and press my hands against his. “There’s no point in having regrets about this. What’s done is done. Like I said, you didn’t have much of a choice in all of this. You made a decision years ago that sent you down this path. You couldn’t have known it would intersect with mine.”
“Would it make me a huge asshole if I said I’m glad that it did?” A tiny grin plays on his lips despite everything. “I’m glad our worlds collided. I’m just so, so sorry I had to pull you into all of this.”
He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my lips. This one is slow. Determined, yet not the least bit harsh. So incredibly different from every other kiss we’ve shared, yet so much more meaningful.
One hand slips up and tangles in my hair to angle my mouth to where he wants it. His lips move with mine—soft, delicate, almost lovingly.
I sigh into his mouth and lean against his chest.
I need this now. I need him now, no matter how crazy that sounds.
I just do…
His hands slide down to cup my ass, and he lifts me with ease to wrap my legs around his waist. I slide my tongue along his lips, and he opens for me. He moans into my mouth, and our tongues tangle slowly, languidly, tasting each other, devouring each other, learning what we can with what little time we may have.
The tempest of emotions I have about Warwick and our situation floats away on a wave of need and lust.
He lowers me to the king-sized mattress and sinks down on top of me. His mouth leaves mine, and he pulls back and brushes his thumb across my lips.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful.”
His eyes say more, but he reaches for the hem of my shirt without another word. He tugs it up and off and tosses it over his shoulder in one smooth motion.
If he’s feeling the wound on his side or arm now, he isn’t showing it. Maybe the adrenaline and hormones rushing through his body are masking the pain. He may regret this later, when the pain comes raging back, but for right now, I’m not reminding him of the consequences if we keep going.
My core aches for him as his hand slides down across the expanse of my stomach to the waistband of my pants. He pulls them off along with my panties, slowly letting the tips of his fingers brush along my thighs, sending goose bumps skittering in their wake.
I shift up and unhook my bra and let it slide from my shoulders.
He stands at the edge of the bed fully clothed while I’m naked and exposed to him in the full light of the bedroom that is our prison.
But it’s a prison of my own making.
I chose to be here. I chose to be here with him.
I don’t regret that decision. I can’t. Not when his dark eyes are looking at me like this. Not when my body throbs and heats for his touch.
He unzips his jeans, slides them off, and kicks them to the side. His shirt goes next, exposing the blood-soaked bandage at his side and on his arm.
My eyes go straight to it. “Shit. Your stitches.”
He glances down and waves me off. “I’m fine. I will deal with it later. You’re all I’m worried about right now.”
Well, shit.
My heart flutters, and my hands itch to touch his smooth, hard, tan skin. I want to learn every line of his tattoos, drag my fingertips and tongue across them. I want to lick and taste every inch of him.
But he has other things in mind.
He grabs my ankles, tugs me to the edge of the bed, and drops to his knees between my legs.
Oh, God.
Warwick’s tongue on me.
Jesus Christ.
Warm lips press against the inside of my thighs. Slow kisses spread across my heated skin, working their way closer to where I need them the most.
His tongue snakes out and glides through my wetness. An approving groan slips from his lips, mingling with my moan, and I bury my fingers in his hair and clutch him tighter against me. His hands shift up and slide under my ass cheeks, squeezing tightly and angling me exactly how he wants me.
Every touch of his lips and flick of his tongue send me higher and higher, driving me toward the brink of release or insanity.
I don’t know which.
His dark eyes meet mine. They burn with a desire unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and like a moth to a flame, I’m drawn into it and give myself over to him with one more flick of his talented tongue, even knowing I’ll get burned.
My orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave without warning. This tsunami of pleasure rolling through every fiber of my being, stealing my breath and any words I could use to describe it. Drowning out reality and all the what-ifs and concerns it carries with it.
I clutch at his head, pulling him tighter against me, and he draws my clit between his lips and sucks hard to drag out my pleasure.
It’s too much and not enough all at once.
“Oh, God…War!”
I push him away, and he slides back with a satisfied grin on his face. This is a totally different Warwick than the one who’s been with me the last few days. This one isn’t worrying about what’s going on around us. This one is concentrating one hundred percent on what’s happening in this room.
His hard cock juts out from between his legs, and he reaches down and wraps a hand around the base.
I shift back across the bed and drop my head back on the huge, soft pillows resting against the headboard. He climbs onto the bed and prowls toward me, a look of absolute devotion and determination in his dark eyes.
This man is on a mission to give us something we’ve never experienced before. A shudder of anticipation rolls through me, and I squeeze my legs together to quell the throb between them.
He settles over me and spreads my thighs with his, opening me to him.
Warm lips press scorching kisses to my breasts, across my collarbone, up the length of my neck until they finally meet mine. He glides the head of his cock through my slickness and pushes into me, catching my gasp in his mouth.
“God, Grace, you feel so fucking incredible.”
He nips at my bottom lip and rolls his hips, driving himself even deeper inside me. I clench around him, and he stills with his lips pressed against mine. He groans into my mouth.
His eyes spark with the flame of need, and he pulls his hips back and drives into me. I arch my hips up to meet his thrusts, and he shifts his hands up to capture my wrists and hold them together above my head.
He takes control, setting an easy, deliberate pace designed to build us up slowly to release.
The kind that steals your breath and any conscious thoughts.
Every snap and roll of his hips ratchet me higher, coil me tighter. Heat blooms where our bodies connect, and every time his cock plunges deep into me, he grinds his pelvis against my clit, sending lightning bolts of pleasure vibrating through every fiber of my being.
&
nbsp; “Warwick…please…”
I don’t know what I’m begging for…
Release.
Apology.
Forgiveness.
Absolution.
Maybe all of it.
All I know is he is the man to give it to me at this moment.
I score my nails down his shoulder blades and dig my heels into his lower back, urging him forward harder and faster.
He grunts low near my ear and nips at the lobe as he hammers into me with deep, powerful strokes.
“Fuck, yes. Like that.”
He clenches his jaw and rolls his hips.
The world explodes around me, and an ocean of rapture threatens to drown me in it.
Warwick continues to drive into me. He holds my hands over my head and makes love to me like the world may end tomorrow.
And I guess it might.
My orgasm drags on and on, a never-ending barrage of pleasure that only quells when he groans out my name and buries himself deep inside me for the final time with his release.
He collapses on top of me and rolls to the side, bringing me with him. His hands capture my face, and he leans in and presses a reverent kiss against my shaking lips.
“I’m sorry, Grace.”
The words seep deep into my soul. He’s said them before, but not like this. Here, wrapped in his arms, lost to the entire world, the whispered apology erases all the pain the last few days have caused. This Warwick is the one I always knew was there. The one I always knew would be a danger.
25
War
TWO DAYS LATER
Grace arches back into me and moans. The sound vibrates through her body and against my chest, and I pump into her even harder…force myself even deeper.
That sound.
Every sound she makes when I’m inside her…
It drives me absolutely insane.
Any control I may have had disappears when I grasp her left leg and drag it up and back over my thigh, spreading her even farther open. My right hand clutches her against me, and I kiss the back of her neck and make my way across to her ear.