THE MITUS TOUCH: Book One of The Touch Series

by Stoni Alexander

  “I hope you packed the necklace.” Colton pushed a button and the privacy divider rose.

  “Oh, sure,” Chad said. “Shut me out of the conversation, like I’m not even—”

  Brigit flipped her gaze back to Colton. “No, I left it.”

  “Rejecting my gift. Rejecting my job offer. I’m going to have to work harder at getting you to say yes.”

  “I agreed to plenty, if memory serves me.”

  “What do you want, Brigit?”

  Spinning her bracelet so the gold lobster clasp was visible, she shifted her gaze past him and out the window as trees and large brick estates blurred by. What did she want?

  She wanted to go back in time and right a terrible wrong. She should have listened to her parents and worked at Francesco right after college, like they’d planned. If she had, they’d still be alive and Francesco wouldn’t be…

  When he caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, she blinked away the regretful thoughts. Though she wanted to let his titillating touch erase her loneliness, she removed his hand.

  “You’re driven, determined and need a challenge,” he said. “Working at Mitus is the perfect fit.”

  “Yesterday you told me I was too strong-willed and too independent.”

  “A lot has transpired since yesterday.”

  Before she could process what was happening, he kissed her. And she didn’t fight him. Nope, not at all. Relishing his tenderness, she closed her eyes. Instead of deepening the kiss, he pulled away. Leaving her wanting.

  “I’ve made my intentions known.” He paused while the energy vibrated around them. “I don’t want anyone else Seth is going to recommend. I want you. And only you.”

  “I thought we agreed. No more kissing or touching or—”

  “And we’ll stop, as soon as you agree to manage my wealth.”

  “So, we’re back to forced choices, again? If you think I’ve any interest in—”

  This time he unbuckled and slid into the center. His large frame dwarfed the too-small space and his legs spilled onto either side. With his gaze cemented on her, he reached over and unsnapped her belt, gathered her in his arms and placed her on his lap.

  The most she could utter was a whimper. With a gentle touch, he cupped her cheek and turned her face toward him. Raw intensity paired with his deep, dark eyes sent a wildfire raging through her. She knew the ecstasy he could bring her. And that made him a dangerous temptation.

  Moving at a snail’s pace, he ran his hand up her thigh, then back down. And then he repeated the motion. Up and down so very slowly. Every nerve ending came alive, tingling with anticipation of what he would do next. Unwilling to stop herself, she placed her hands on either side of his face and leaned close, but she didn’t make contact with his lips. His whiskers prickled her palms and his minty breath stung her eyes.

  He threaded his other hand through her hair, cupped the back of her neck and gave her a gentle nudge. Lip-to-lip contact was her tipping point. Brigit could have pushed him away, scrambled off his lap, broken the connection any number of ways, but she didn’t. Closing her eyes only magnified his breath, roaring hard and fast in her ears.

  The kiss turned ravenous. Her mind shorted. All she could do was absorb the erotic sensations. More, I need more. Straddling him, she placed her hands on the sides of his face and devoured him with another ferocious kiss. He slipped a hand beneath her sweater and cupped her braless breast.

  “Oh, Brigit,” he said between kisses.

  Moaning, she ground against his erection. Her panties grew wet. Colton’s powerful touch, his sexy smell, his delicious taste, and the way he made her feel magnified each breath, all sensation, the tiniest movement, every intention.

  It would be easy to let go, to unravel. But she had to stick with the plan. Time to sever all ties. Sucking in a steadying breath, she grew still and ended the kiss. With a quick squeeze on her waist, he removed his hand from beneath her clothing.

  “I can’t control myself around you,” he whispered. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

  A smug smile spread over her face. “Ah, now that’s a question I can answer.” Why did he have to be so damn addictive? She tugged down her sweater and clambered off him, shielding herself with the seat belt.

  “I can’t hire you.” He slid away, leaving her cold.

  “Finally, we agree.” But the relief quickly subsided, replaced by the unexpected sting of rejection.

  “I can’t hire you because I’m crazy attracted to you. That’s not the kind of relationship I’ll permit with my wealth manager.”

  “Then you’ll have to work with someone else. Problem solved.”

  Chad tapped on the separation shield. They were parked in her driveway. That was the fastest forty minutes of her life. Opening the door, she turned back and stared into his eyes one final time. “I’ll let Seth know.”

  She scooted up her walkway as Chad pulled her bags from the trunk. Her heart felt heavy, like this goodbye shouldn’t be happening. How ludicrous. With a flick of her mane, she tossed the thought and slipped her key into the deadbolt. “Thank you for the ride, Chad. I can take it from here.” Brigit turned and startled.

  Colton held her bags. “I’ll carry these inside for you.”

  Was there no escaping this man? As she stepped into her townhouse, she cried out, “Oh, my God!”

  18

  Home Invasion

  Unable to fully comprehend the devastation, Brigit stared in disbelief. Colton dropped her bags in her small foyer and pushed past. “What the hell happened?” he asked.

  It looked like a tornado had ripped through her living room.

  Chad burst in, his weapon drawn. “What the fucking fuck?” He quickly cleared the powder room, off the foyer.

  “You can’t clear her home alone,” Colton said to Chad.

  “Like hell I can’t. Stay here.” Chad flipped his gaze to Brigit. “Three-level townhome?”

  “What? Uh-huh.” With a trembling hand, she pointed. “Basement door is around the corner. Second set of stairs is off the living room.”

  Chad took off, leaving Brigit and Colton amid the debris. The furniture had been tossed, sofa cushions ripped to shreds, their innards scattered all over the floor like piles of snow. Books in the built-in had been pulled, pages ripped and strewn everywhere. Though the baby grand had been spared the wrath of the violent intruder, the piano bench cushion had been sliced several times and its legs broken off.

  “This can’t be real,” she said, white-knuckling the piano.

  A few moments later, Chad returned. “The house is clear,” he said catching his breath.

  In stark contrast to the living room, the dining room was undisturbed. Her table, chairs and china cabinet were untouched. She zombie-walked back into her living room, the sight impossible to absorb. This had to be a nightmare.

  “Brigit, we’ve got to get you out of here.” Colton pulled out his phone and dialed.

  Moving at a snail’s pace, she headed toward the kitchen, but Colton stepped in front to block her. “No, stay with me. This call will take a second.”

  “Who are you calling?”

  “My cousin.”

  “My house is in shambles. Can you chat with your family later?” She stormed into the kitchen. “God, no.”

  Chad followed close on her heels.

  “Tucker, I need your help,” Colton said. “Seven twenty-four Zander Place, Georgetown. End unit townhome. Bentley’s in the driveway.” He waited. “How long?” He listened then ended the call.

  “How’s the rest of the house?” Colton asked.

  “Basement is untouched. Upstairs was ransacked,” Chad said.

  “Brigit, do you own a gun?” Colton asked.

  “No.”

  “Where are your knives?” Chad asked.

  “They used to be on the counter in a knife wedge,” she said. “They’re probably in that huge pile on the floor, where my kitchen table used to be.” The rush of emotion ove
rtook her. Tears stung her eyes. Spinning away, she sucked in several stilted breaths. She would not cry. No way would she allow Colton to see her weak.

  Gently pulling her into his arms, he stroked her back while she buried her face in his chest and fought the urge to sob. “I’m sorry this happened, Brigit. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to make this right for you.”

  Tearing herself from the security of his arms, she said, “Thank you, but you don’t have to. I mean, we hardly know each other and—” She straightened up and swiped the lone tear.

  “Let’s find a knife and do a walk-through,” Chad said.

  “I thought you cleared my home,” Brigit said.

  “I don’t like surprises,” Colton said.

  Brigit stared at the pile of broken dishes, shattered pieces of glassware, pots, pans, and silverware. What a disastrous mess. She handed a large knife to Colton.

  After confirming the basement door lock had been picked, but nothing had been stolen, they headed upstairs. The guest room was destroyed. Mattress thrown against the window, shredded bed linens, scattered down feathers. Bureau drawers had been emptied and tossed. There was so much destruction they couldn’t even enter.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered from the doorway. “This is unbelievable.”

  When they entered her bedroom, she gasped, then covered her mouth with her hand. Her bra and panty sets had been placed on her comforter in two neat rows.

  “Did you do this?” Colton stared at her bed.

  “No.” Brigit’s face warmed. Though humiliated that these men were staring at her intimate apparel, she was sickened that the intruder had gone through her things, then arranged them neatly on her bed. Grabbing the undergarments, she stuffed them into her drawer. She’d never wear them again, but she couldn’t leave them on display.

  “This is one effed-up dude.” Chad stood in Brigit’s bathroom.

  “What is it?” As she bolted toward the doorway, adrenaline shot through her.

  There was a note scribbled on the mirror with bar soap. Sorry I missed you.

  Fear surged from her gut and gripped her around the throat as her insides twisted into a series of painful knots. Though scarcely able to breathe, she grabbed a towel and tried rubbing out the message. The harder she rubbed, the faster panic pumped through her bloodstream.

  Vinny Ray.

  Chad gently stopped her mid-stroke. “Easy. You’re eliminating evidence.”

  She tugged away her hand, flipped on the faucet and drenched the end of the cloth. Now, frantically scrubbing, she blurred the words into a soapy froth. This was no random break-in. She’d been targeted. No way. He’s in prison.

  She’d confirmed that fact four months earlier through the D.A.’s office. Was it possible he’d escaped? And how had he found her after all these years? She dried the mirror and stared at her terrified reflection. Colton and Chad stood behind her, their eyes laced with concern.

  Her nerves of steel had been reduced to rubble. She wasn’t safe in her home. She wasn’t safe anywhere. A chill skirted down her spine and she started shaking. Had she been at home, she’d be dead, but not before being raped and tortured.

  Panicked, she had to get out of there. She pushed past both men and stood in her bedroom trying to think. Where can I go?

  “Can we check your jewelry box?” Chad pointed to her bureau.

  Feeling like a caged animal, Brigit nodded.

  Using a tissue, Chad opened the lid.

  “Anything missing?” Colton asked.

  Brigit examined the contents. “I don’t have much, but it’s all there.”

  “Do you have someone you can stay with until your home is back in order and a security system has been installed?” Colton asked.

  Think. Think! Where can I go? Could I stay with Kat or Shaniqua? No, I can’t put them in danger.

  Trembling, she rubbed her arms. “No, no one.”

  “Let’s get you packed. You’re moving into the mansion.” Colton opened her closet door. “Suitcase in here?”

  “What? No, you and Chad need to get going. You have plans, and a tee time, and a life.” Her shoulders sagged.

  “Leave?” He shook his head. “Not without you.”

  Brigit waved her hand around, like what had happened was no big deal. “I got burglarized. Happens all the time.” I could start over, in a new city. Her chest tightened. She didn’t want to run again.

  “I’m not budging, Brigit. You can pack or I’ll damn well do it for you.” Colton retreated into her closet and emerged with a suitcase.

  I can’t move into Mitus Mansion. But what other choice did she have? At least she’d be safe behind the massive iron gates, and able to lie low until she had answers.

  Before she could rationalize the many reasons why moving into Colton’s home was a bad idea, she blurted, “If the wealth manager position is still on the table, I accept.”

  19

  Get Her Out

  Colton’s temples throbbed. He couldn’t change his past, but he could damn well help Brigit today. He’d have her packed and out of there within an hour. “You’ve made the right decision, Brigit.”

  She’d agreed, albeit under horrific circumstances, to manage his wealth. With so much at stake regarding Francesco, he needed her head in the game. Would she be up to the challenge?

  The devastation reminded him of the hell he’d spent years fighting to forget. Even two decades later the horrific images still seeped into his dreams. Demolished rooms in his parents’ home and so much property taken. But in the end, what forever changed him and ultimately defined him was the lifeless body of his twin brother. A sharp pain pounded through his chest, but he pushed past. “Let’s get you packed.”

  Brigit couldn’t hide the utter fear in her eyes, but the scribbled message had given her away. Her past, already shrouded in mystery, had taken a dark turn. By insisting she move into his home, was he risking his staff’s safety?

  “Colt?” Tucker called.

  “My cousin’s here. Let’s go talk to him.” With a gentle touch, he guided her downstairs. Her body had gone rigid. More than likely, she was in shock.

  “Hey, man, thanks for getting here so quickly.” Colton hugged his older cousin.

  “You betcha,” Tucker said, then shook Chad’s hand. “Good to see you. Premises cleared?”

  “Twice,” Chad said.

  “Tuck, this is Brigit Farnay,” said Colton. “She’s agreed to be my new wealth manager. Brigit, this is Tucker Henninger of Henninger Investigations and Security.”

  Tall and sturdy, with a rugged appearance, Tucker’s short, dirty blond hair and tanned skin were a stark contrast to his long-haired, fair-skinned cousin.

  “Sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances,” Tucker said. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

  “I…I walked in and found this.” Brigit gestured with a sweep of her hand.

  Her fingers trembled and Colton wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her. Under the circumstances, she was keeping herself together damn well.

  “Have you checked with neighbors?” Tucker asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Anything taken?”

  “Nothing obvious like jewelry, but some of the rooms are—” She glanced into her living room. “I don’t know.”

  “Called the police?”

  Stepping back, Brigit hugged herself. “No.”

  “I’ll call.” Tucker dug out his phone from his jeans pocket.

  “I’m not required to file a report,” she said.

  Tucker shifted his gaze to Colton.

  Let it go, Tuck. With a subtle shake of his head, Colton hoped his by-the-book cousin would drop it. “We’re taking Brigit back to the house as soon as she packs.”

  With his gaze fixed on Brigit, Tucker nodded. Colton could see him thinking, strategizing, sizing up Brigit and the situation. “Okay, no police,” Tucker said. “How about we install grade-A locks and a security system?”

  “Tha
nk you.” Brigit relaxed her stance.

  Tucker glanced over his shoulder into the kitchen. “We’ll salvage what we can.”

  She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. “I’ve been through worse. I’ll get through this.”

  Colton whipped his gaze to her. Worse than this? Chad needs to keep digging.

  She handed Tucker her credit card. “I’ll give you my phone number. Anything ruined can go. Only the piano has sentimental value.”

  Tucker took the card, but Colton plucked it from his cousin’s hand. “You were on Mitus Conglomerate time. I’ll take care of this.”

  “No,” she said. “You aren’t paying for my mistake…I mean, for this.”

  She blames herself? What the hell is going on?

  Tucker threw his hands into the air. “While you two kids work out the payment plan, I’m going to make some calls.”

  “Tuck, discretion please,” said Colton.

  “You got it.” Tucker smiled reassuringly. “No worries, Brigit.”

  “Brigit, Chad and I will help you pack.” Colton handed Tucker his credit card as the three retreated upstairs.

  At the top of the flight, she paused. “You’re going to a lot of trouble for me.” She mustered a feeble smile. “You must really need a wealth manager.”

  I do, but I’m not abandoning you, either.

  Back in her bedroom, Brigit pulled a storage container from beneath her bed, lifted the lid and sighed. The box was filled with photo albums and childhood keepsakes. A smile ghosted across her lips when she held the Barbie tucked in its original packaging.

  “My sisters must have each had ten Barbies,” Chad said. “Was she your favorite?”

  Brigit looked up at the two men flanking her. “I was only allowed one. But she did have a kick-ass dream house and a fabulous wardrobe.”

  One Barbie? What was that all about? His sister had once owned a slew of dolls.

  “I’ll carry that for you,” Chad said.