by Kira Blakely
The tallest of the three, a guy with shaggy brown hair and a visor on, shook his head. “You look like you’ve had a rough night, sweetheart, definitely seemed like you needed something to take the edge off.”
The second guy, a redhead with more than a few freckles on his cheeks, chimed in, “Totally. It’s hot as balls out there, just take a sip. You’ll need something to keep you cool.”
I sighed, not wanting to push it with any of them and hoping that they’d back off if I took a few sips before my water arrived. “I… sure.”
“Great!” the first guy said, offering a smile with too many sparkling white teeth to be genuine. “I’m Will, that’s Dan, and the guy who hasn’t said much yet is Tyler. He’s not really a talker.”
Tyler was a huge, hulking guy. He looked like someone who had to have played football, lacrosse, or some other contact sport where he thrashed other guys for fun. He hadn’t said anything, true, and even then, he didn’t try and introduce himself. Just glared at the mug.
I swallowed under the scrutiny and took a long draught.
Then the room started to spin.
***
Drake
It took a few minutes to realize where I was. Fucking hell. The posttraumatic stress had triggered an episode again. I’d come into the library when I’d heard Mrs. Johnson, Leonard, and Belle’s laughter filtering through the estate. Belle might have hated me, but she was warming up quickly to the two people I trusted and cared about most in the world. At least that was a start. Or it would have been except for the fact that I’d scared her. The sight of that damn Purple Heart, the fucking thing I’d tried so hard to bury but couldn’t goddamn part with had flipped me out. I’d been out of the service for close to fifteen years, since I’d been wounded in Iraq.
I hadn’t come to see my footlocker in over a decade.
But she had pried it open and seen that side of me, that part that was once honorable and noble, so in control and truly together. I hadn’t been that man in a long time, although I tried everything to be him—-worked to keep control with my chosen lifestyle, presented the right playboy image for the media, and hid everything I could from any prying paparazzi eyes.
Yet Belle had brought it out again, and it had been like a switch was flipped, and I’d screamed at her.
“Fuck!” I shouted, shaking my head and rushing out into the library. “Shit.”
Mrs. Johnson shook her head. “You should watch your language.”
Leonard glared at me. “Did you know that Belle just took out of here in your car?”
“I can trace that; there’s a GPS in every single one. Which was it?” I asked, pulling out my phone to log into the app I’d need.
“The Audi,” Leonard said. “What did you do, sir? I warned you that if you hurt that poor girl I’d do my best to whoop your butt. Do I have to do that?”
“Leonard!” Mrs. Johnson chided. “I’m not thrilled with how he treated Belle either. It was cruel.”
A cold chill slid up my spine. I worked so hard to hide from that part of myself, from the damaged side that trauma and the flashbacks brought out. It happened so rarely—hadn’t in over two years—that I’d thought it was finally gone, that I’d learned enough control.
I’d been a fucking moron.
“I’ll fix it. I just need to find her. The town around here isn’t that big and, of course, she’s at the market by the harbor.” I hurried across the threshold and toward the garage. My fastest car, a Lamborghini Murciélago, would do quite well for rushing in to apologize. A hand reached out and grabbed my arm. I expected it to be Leonard’s but it didn’t feel large or rough enough. I frowned back at Mrs. Johnson. “What?”
“You need to take care of her. I don’t know what you did at dinner or why you yelled at her, but you treat her better or Leonard and I will arrange for her to go home tomorrow and we’ll tell Mr. Fontaine everything about why you really need the merger.”
“If I hurt her again, Penelope, I’ll call him myself and beg for forgiveness.”
The next half hour was a blur of frustration as I roared down the winding, rocky roads of the island. There were no cruises coming in before noon, so she couldn’t leave, but the port wasn’t safe at night. There were all sorts of predators there, and men who would do awful things to a woman alone in the wee hours of the night. Belle didn’t know what she was getting herself into and the longer I waited to find her, the greater the odds that someone awful would first. I pulled up to the bigger tourist bar in town, parking right next to the Audi she’d taken. Then I hauled ass into the bar.
The bar that had no trace of her, even if it still had my car parked in the lot.
Wasting no time, I rushed to the hostess. “Have you seen a girl come in here? Maybe an hour ago or less. She’d have brown hair and blue eyes.”
The hostess nodded. “Yeah, she pissed Tanya off ‘cause she only ordered water. Three college-type white boys came in and just sweet talked her out of here with a drink. I’d say maybe about five minutes ago. Just missed her.”
I nodded and pulled out a hundred for her time and for the lack of tip for her friend, and then rushed back out to the parking lot. I still didn’t see her, but then I heard it. A deafening shriek from behind the dumpster.
Blood roared in my veins, and everything became resoundingly clear. Belle is mine.
I had to protect her.
Running behind the dumpster, I found her in the grip of a larger man with dark hair as two others snickered at his side. He was trying to paw up the hem of her shirt, and that’s when I saw red. My fist lashed out, and I connected hard with his jaw. It was gratifying to hear the crunch of bone beneath my knuckles. And that animal inside, that anger and hate I shoved down all the time and had since I’d come back, broke loose. The large guy turned to me and took a swing. With a fierce stomp down, I crunched his right kneecap, sending him falling to the gravel beneath us. Then the other two idiots tried to jump me at once. A quick slam of my palm flat into the redhead’s throat sent him gasping for air and rolling onto his side. The final asshole, the dick with the stupid hat, got in a solid punch to my nose and I hissed when blood started to pour from it. I wasn’t sure if it was broken, but it hurt like a motherfucker.
That did it.
No one fucking messed with me, especially not some rapist asshole who’d almost hurt the woman I cared about.
I pulled my fist back and slammed it hard into his solar plexus, the air forced from his lungs. He doubled over as I brought my knee up hard into his nose, crunching and distorting as it broke. I was only getting warmed up, and started pounding my fist against his face, his blood slick under my knuckles. His eyes, his nose, his temple. It didn’t matter. This fucker had hurt Belle.
He had to go.
He was moaning under me, gurgling underneath me but no longer really fighting back. My fist was sore from hitting, but none of that mattered; the only thing I cared about was that he’d hurt my princess, and now he had to pay.
A soft hand was on my shoulder, and then I turned to see Belle crying. “Let it go. The cops will be here eventually, and I just want to go. Please, Drake, can we go home?”
I stood, forcing the animal inside away again, forcing myself to push the hate away. It still burned under my skin and through every nerve, but I had bigger things to do. Offering Belle as kind a smile as I could, hoping she understood that she could trust me, I draped my arm over her shoulders and pulled her in close to me. “I agree, princess. Let’s go home.”
Chapter Seven
Belle
I woke up the next morning on a sofa. Blinking and confused, I tried to figure out how I got here. But then memories flooded through my mind in Technicolor glory: the footlocker, Drake’s freak out, and then the bar with the tainted beer. I’d almost… Bile rose in my throat and I pushed it back. But I hadn’t been. Those college jerks could have hurt me so badly, but they hadn’t because of Drake. He’d come and saved me. Then he’d driven me back to the estate, b
ack home.
Getting up, I looked around at the cool turquoise walls and the modern king-sized bed with mosquito netting hung over it. Water poured from pipes nearby, and my gaze followed the sound to where the bathroom had to be. When I got there, I gasped. Drake was standing there with his back to me. Despite everything that had happened between us, I couldn’t help but lick my lips. His broad back was as muscular as I imagined the rest of him looked under the straining fabric of his dress shirt last night. As he moved, wetting the rag in the sink and then bringing the makeshift compact to his side, I could see the way the coiled, lean muscle of his back and arms bunched and pulled with every motion.
Yum.
I shook my head. No, I shouldn’t think like that. Yes, he had saved me, but his temper was the only reason I’d run before at all. Still, I owed him a thank you. If he needed help cleaning his wounds, then I could at least offer that. Coughing, I hoped I got his attention.
“Drake? Do you need help with anything?”
He stilled and then reached fast for his undershirt, shoving it on without even turning around. “I don’t like to be snuck up on.”
“That makes two of us,” I said coolly.
“I know that I scared you yesterday,” he said, turning, his long, dark locks flaring out behind him.
“Yes, you did,” I said, licking my lips a second time before trying to focus on his eyes. Maybe that was a mistake. I could probably lose myself forever in those chocolate depths. “But you helped save me, too,” I said, offering him a small, shy smile.
Easing my way to the double sinks, I wetted a second rag in the cool water and then nodded to a bench-like seat in the middle of the bathroom. “Can you sit down?”
He arched his unmarred eyebrow skeptically back at me. “Why?”
“Because I think I can at least help you with that bloody mess over your nose, though a shower might help even more.”
“Still a bit too fuzzy to stand that long,” he admitted.
“Then, let me help, okay? You did a lot for me last night.”
“I beat three men senseless after yelling at you,” he admitted, sitting before me. “You should probably run. I won’t be mad if you call your father. I can’t do better than forty cents on the dollar, but I’d still sign the papers.”
“We’re not done negotiating. I won’t leave here with under eighty so just let me help you,” I said, holding my chin up high, letting my resolve be known clearly.
“I don’t deserve it,” he said.
“Probably not,” I said, as I pressed the wet rag against his nose. He hissed and I looked over it as I wiped away the crusted blood. “It doesn’t look broken, a little swollen, but you’re not suddenly Owen Wilson.”
“Yes, I was so worried about my rugged good looks,” he deadpanned.
“You’d never be anything but hot and you know it,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I mean, any straight woman with eyes can see that.”
I expected the cocky billionaire to answer me, the man I’d seen first in the boardroom and then on the private jet. The man who’d offered me a collar on a first date. But that wasn’t who I was with right now. This version before me seemed less sure and kept his eyes downcast. He certainly didn’t revel in the chance to brag about his looks. Maybe the fight last night had knocked some of the wind out of him, too. I know it had for me.
“You don’t know.”
“Maybe you could talk to me,” I said, as I continued tending to his face. There were abrasions on his cheeks and a cut lip, too. He looked like he’d gone a round or two with Rocky. “Would that be so hard? You should talk more, yell less.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have been in my private storage room looking at my personal shit.”
I glared back at him. “Well, you shouldn’t have grabbed me.”
His voice raised a little. “You should have respected my space.”
“And you should learn to control your temper,” I finished, blotting at his lip.
Drake looked up at me, and I could see a vein throbbing a bit in his temple as he thought that over. “I should.”
I blinked back at him and then sat beside him on the bench. “You actually admit it?”
“I was angry, but it wasn’t because I wanted to be, at least not that way,” he said, poking at the corner of my cap sleeve and breathing a sigh of relief.
“There aren’t bruises. You gripped me hard for a minute and startled me, but I’m okay. Heh, I guess maybe we can call all this even since I committed a little grand theft auto.”
He chuckled, a warm, rich sound that made heat flare through my belly. “You can keep it if you like. I never liked that car all that much.”
“I think I’m going to be okay.”
He reached out and stroked the hair back from my face. I caught sight of the glimmering gold Rolex on his right wrist and smelled just a hint of the musky cologne he preferred, something rugged that made the heat in my belly flare even more. “I’m sorry for what happened. I rushed what I wanted, and it obviously backfired like crazy. It was one of the dumbest things I’ve ever done.”
“Not arguing that.”
“And the yelling… sometimes I get flashbacks still. Seeing that medal put me back in Iraq, in all the chaos, and I just couldn’t deal. It’s not an excuse, and if you want to go home, I’ll make sure you can.”
I shook my head. “And I meant it when I said that I have to get the best deal possible. It’s for my dad and all he built, but it’s for my mom, too, and Carol. So, you’re stuck with me, Mr. McManus.”
He smirked back at me, and my panties were wet. “Then that sounds like the best threat I’ve ever heard, Ms. Fontaine.”
“I hope so.” I sighed and handed him my rag. “Then where do we go from here? I’m not ready to be collared and I don’t think I’ll ever be, but there’s something between us, and that deal still needs to be finalized.”
“Then, accept that I was serious. That I wanted to start slow,” he said, reaching out and tracing his finger down the skin of my neck. Goosebumps spread over my flesh, and I moaned at his touch.
He’d been honest with me, shared something embarrassing for him, about the episodes that plagued him. I could do him the favor and the kindness of offering him that much as well.
“I might have overreacted, too, but I haven’t…” I stood and started to pace, keeping my focus on the marble beneath my feet. “The truth is…”
“What is it?” he asked, his voice low and concerned.
Stopping, I dared to look back at him and wrung my hands together. “The truth is that I’m a virgin.”
His eyes widened, and I looked down at my hands. I wasn’t proud of the fact and felt awkward about myself because I’d never found the one in all this time.
Drake considered the information carefully, and I could almost see the wheels of his mind turning behind his gaze. Finally, he took a deep breath. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
I nodded and kept wringing my hands. Right now, I just needed something to focus my attention on, something to keep me from spinning off or going crazy under his scrutiny. It was something I hadn’t talked about with anyone. Instead, I just let my sister assume I’d gone that far with my college boyfriend.
His fingers found their way under my chin and he tilted my face up to look at his own. “I just need to understand where we’re starting from and what’s going on. That’s all. Are you serious or is this a game?”
I gritted my teeth and then took a few deep breaths, letting the exhaustion ease out of my body. “Why would I make this up? It’s not exactly something the average twenty-four-year-old wants to talk about.”
“You said you’d had other lovers.”
“I’d had other serious boyfriends or so I thought. I, uh, wasn’t very popular in high school, too obsessed with science and saving the planet. Totally an environmental crusader and it scared the boys off. I’m still that way but not as mad dog on the outside. My college boyfriend turned out to be
gay, and I didn’t know I was his beard till he confessed six months in. Then Mom got sick, and it didn’t ever seem like the time to have anything for myself. I didn’t have time for a boyfriend. It all just snowballed.”
Drake nodded and then set a massive hand on my shoulder, squeezing it tightly. “That explains a lot.”
“Well, I still think if you show a girl her collar only a few hours into the relationship, then you’re rushing it.”
“Perhaps the timeframe of a month on the island drove me past my usual suave system,” he admitted. “I do usually pick someone in the lifestyle and someone who’s ready. Christ, a virgin. I wouldn’t have known.”
“I don’t exactly have a scarlet ‘V’ on my chest,” I quipped. “So where does that leave us? I can’t deny there’s something between us, especially after you saved me, but I’m not ready for something intense and down and dirty.” I paused then and gulped. “Well, yet, I think.”
He arched an eyebrow at me, this time the one with the delicious scar across it. “Yet?” His demeanor changed then and something beautiful lit up his eyes; it took me a minute to guess that it could possibly be hope. “So, you want our negotiations to continue?”
“Yes, but I want to try at my pace, if that’s all right?”
“I said it was last night.’
“With a dog collar. I’m definitely not ready to wear that.”
“Then what are you ready for?” he asked as he narrowed his intense chocolate gaze at me.
“I want to try. I want to see if we’re even compatible. I haven’t ever had sex before, but I want to.” I threaded my fingers through his dark hair. “We could start now.”
I was on the edge of a cliff then, and I would jump if Drake accepted my offer. I was leaping far away to the outer edges of reason, and he was the one there to guide me. I knew nothing of kink, hardly knew anything about sex. Sometimes life bowls you over and you can’t think about fun, you can only focus on tomorrow, and everything else falls to the wayside. But would he take this offer and go my pace for real? Or did I have to pick between flying back to Los Angeles or ending up collared on all fours before him by midday?