by Liz Maverick
“She came to me,” he said, the expression on his face going dark. “And I didn’t have to steal her. There are always two sides to any story.”
“Tell me, then.”
“What?”
“Tell me your side.”
He actually looked taken aback at the prospect that she’d be willing to hear him out.
“Michael and Dev. Their parents were like my parents. They adopted me, for all intents and purposes. They took me in. I was a third son, a second brother. We were inseparable. We took over the family business, a slip of a thing, really, when compared to the operations we’re both running now. We had these big plans. We dreamed of building something that would make us ridiculously wealthy. But somewhere along the line things changed.”
Vienna felt a strange pang of sympathy for Pierce; he was like her in a way, an orphan. They looked at each other in silence and then suddenly Pierce cocked his head. “You’re different, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’d like you to come to my box with me.”
She looked nervously over her shoulder, experiencing a small pang when she couldn’t find Michael’s face. He was watching, though. She was sure of it. “I hardly think that’s possible.”
“I’m attracted to you, you’re attracted to me. I’d like to see you again.”
“See me again?” She laughed and shook her head. “I’m with Michael.”
Pierce pulled back. “Don’t want to take a gamble? Hedge your bets? You think he’s a sure thing?”
Vienna looked at him defiantly. “What if I do?”
“Then you’d be wrong. He goes through women like Devlin goes through wine.”
The theater bell rang for the next act. He held out his hand, almost gallant in his movement.
“He’ll come looking for me,” she said, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest.
“And he won’t find you.” His eyes grew wide, teasing almost, and with a dramatic glance he ducked down and whispered in her ear, “Escape for a moment.”
Escape.
Vienna slipped her palm into his and let him steer her away from the crowds in the lobby to an alcove mostly hidden by emerald green velvet drapery where he backed her up against the wall.
Pierce Mackey was a very sexual man. The way he looked at a woman with pure lust in his eyes was almost mesmerizing. Watching him from afar was one thing, being this close something else entirely. She could imagine how Devlin’s Julia might have found herself in over her head.
“You think I’m going to let you touch me?” Vienna asked.
“I think you might,” he said, slowly pulling at one side of the satin bow that held her bodice together. “Just because I’m an enemy of the Kingston’s doesn’t necessarily make me a bad guy.”
His finger hooked under the loose front of her bodice; Vienna caught his hand in hers. “Doesn’t necessarily.”
“The boys didn’t see me as an equal. I had some big ideas; they didn’t see what I saw, and it all went downhill from there. The Kingstons, they told me I was like a son to them. They told me I would inherit a share. But they didn’t write it down. Michael and Devlin said they didn’t want to dilute the shares—they could have given me an equal share. Sounds like they betrayed me, don’t you think?”
“So you built a competing business and took Devlin’s girl?”
“She chose me,” he said, ducking his mouth down towards hers, the implication of a kiss without so much as a touch.
“The way you’d like Michael’s girl to choose you?” she murmured, then pulled back sharply as the house lights flickered. “We have to go back. It’s starting.”
“Let it start,” he replied, slipping his hand inside the bodice of her gown to caress her breast, surprisingly gentle as his thumb circled her nipple. Her body reacted to common lust. Part of her didn’t care. Michael deserved it. He wanted a good performance; she could make it a great one.
But part of her cared too much. That Michael would let another man, his greatest enemy touch her like this and not be bothered a bit.
“Even if I wanted to, it wouldn’t be smart,” she said. “Michael cares about me.”
“You don’t sound convinced of that.” Pierce moved his pelvis against the luxurious fabric of her gown and shuddered; she could feel how hard he was as if she’d been wearing nothing at all.
She moaned softly. “I need to go back. He’s probably looking for me.”
“I’m sure he is,” Pierce muttered.
“I can’t do this,” she said, even as she pressed back against him.
“Tell me you want to,” Pierce said.
“It’s wrong,” she said.
“Tell me you want to,” Pierce repeated, something tormented in his voice.
Vienna gasped and threw her head back, closing her eyes as his hot, greedy mouth came down on her neck. “I want to,” she whispered, a little terrified that this would escalate to something more right here.
She tried to wrench free from out under him, but he stopped her, his fingers wrapped tight around her wrist. To her surprise he tightened the front of her gown and retied the bow. “I want to see you again,” he said.
“I don’t know,” she said, breathing so hard, her breasts strained the fabric at her bodice.
He held her by both wrists. “Let me treat you as Michael never can and never will.”
She craned her neck to look over his shoulder, trying to pull her hands away. “I don’t know.”
“I have a yacht out at the pier. The Julia. Be there tomorrow night, eight o’clock…say you will be there.”
She stared at him, her heart pounding.
“Say you will be there. It will be your every fantasy. You know you want to.”
“I’ll be there,” she whispered. He let his hand drop away and Vienna dashed out into the empty hall.
Yes, I want to. But not with you.
Michael was standing there, alone, on a bright crimson swath of carpeting. She dashed at him, and blurted out, “I’m so sorry; I’m not feeling well.” He kissed her forehead and she just pulled away from him and ran out of the building to wait for the limousine. As she waited outside, her bare shoulders shivering in the cold air, she didn’t have to fake her distress.
Michael watched Vienna just standing at the top of the steps as she waited for the limousine to pull up. Just standing there, not trying to escape, not looking around to gauge their location or gather landmarks. He joined her on the landing and pulled her close. “Did he do something to you? Did he hurt you?”
“He did what you expected him to do. He came on to me,” she said blandly.
The limousine pulled up, and Michael helped Vienna inside. Once in, she turned away to the opposite window, her arms hugging her chest.
A hot fury shot through his body. “If he forced himself on you—”
“He didn’t have to force himself,” she pointed out. “I played it just the way you would have wanted me to.”
“Did you…?”
She looked at him like he was insane. “No! Of course not.” She added bitterly, “Why go there until I have to?”
“Are you upset because you’re being asked to do it, or upset because you like it?” Michael asked.
Vienna turned her face very slowly to his. “Are you upset because I’m turned on by him? Or upset I didn’t go further?”
Michael looked out the window, his fists clenching and unclenching as they rested on his thighs. And then he realized that he’d forgotten to blindfold her. He was getting sloppy over her. He glanced at Vienna and saw that she’d just realized the same.
“Go ahead,” she said. “I don’t care.”
Michael pulled the wide black ribbon from a drawer under the bar, scooted over, and tied it carefully over her eyes. He paused for a moment, then found a second ribbon and pulled her hands onto his lap.
Vienna flinched as he began to wind the fabric around her wrists. “Give the training a rest.”
“It’s not about the damn training!” Michael burst out.
He pushed her gently back down on the long seat, sweeping the fabric of her gown aside to expose her long legs, creamy thighs, and the tease of satin cord around her ankles from her party shoes. Vienna’s teeth pulled nervously at her lower lip. “Michael?”
He shushed her and pushed the fabric higher up her thighs, smiling to himself as his fingers ran over the rough lace and clips of her garter belt.
No panties. Just as he preferred. He bent down and ran a finger softly down the center of her cunt. Vienna gasped, her mouth opening in an O.
“Did he turn you on?” Michael asked.
She stiffened. “Is that what this is about? Jealousy.”
If he were honest with himself he’d admit that part of him was horribly jealous. And part of him just wanted to please her. He came up over her, leaning his weight on his elbow and whispered in her ear, “This is about…you.” Vienna arched her back in anticipation. He teased her, moving his hand downward as he caressed her flushed skin before simply trailing his fingertips off her thigh.
“What do you want me to do?” she gasped.
“Come for me,” he said urgently.
She parted her legs until she was completely exposed to him, unbelievably wet already. Dizzy with desire, Michael leaned down and ran his tongue along the inside of her leg, from knee to thigh, slowing as he reached her center. He licked her cunt, a slow, languorous movement that had her crying out, arching her back…bringing her body even closer to him.
He entered her with his tongue, gently drawing himself in and out. Vienna tossed her head from side-to-side, pulling and twisting her velvet-wrapped wrists in an attempt to free herself that only made them tighter. “Michael, let me—”
“Stop thinking. Just feel.”
“Why…” She trailed off, her words lost as she sucked in a quick breath.
Michael’s heart pounded in his chest as he worked his mouth and tongue against her hot, sweet center.
He lifted one of her legs and let it rest on his shoulder, the satin ankle cords fluttering against the side of his face.
Open even wider for him now, she begged him not to stop. Michael drove her even higher, wanting nothing more than to drive himself into her.
His mind swam with the champagne he’d downed while waiting for her to tantalize Pierce, the thought of her being touched by him, driving him a little mad. He had drunk and drunk, his cock hardening in the shadows of a side room as he thought about where he’d like to touch Vienna, how he’d like to touch her, what it would take to erase those images.
And as he put all of his thwarted passion into bringing her to climax, Vienna cried out in ecstasy, her body rising off the seat.
After a moment, Michael pulled her dress down, released her wrists from their bonds, and lay down alongside her, holding her in his arms until they arrived back at the training compound.
At the gates of the compound, he removed her blindfold. And when the driver opened the door, Michael saw Devlin. Not now, Dev. Give it a rest.
“How did it go?” Devlin asked.
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
Devlin’s eyes narrowed. “No. This is supposed to be about business, Michael.”
“I’m fully aware of that,” he replied through gritted teeth.
“Are you?”
“I am,” Michael said, pushing by his brother and practically leaping up the mansion steps.
And that’s exactly why I don’t want to talk to you right now.
Six
Vienna entered Devlin Kingston’s office in the morning per a hastily scrawled correction to her day’s schedule. A secretary ushered her in, announced her, and left. She stared at the back of a large, leather executive chair and waited.
The occupant faced the far end of a 360-degree panoramic window that jutted out from the side of the building. For the first time, she could actually see the big picture of where she was located—that she didn’t recognize any landmarks was a different problem.
One arm reached out—black suit, white French cuffs, plain cufflinks, platinum no doubt, the kind of understated ostentation only the truly wealthy would bother wearing. Fingernails buffed, simple signet ring—present and accounted for. And a palm curling in abruptly to beckon her forward.
The chair slowly turned. Devlin Kingston didn’t waste any time. “Don’t think you’re the first. Or that you’ll be the last.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Vienna said.
Devlin pressed his index finger over her lips, signaling her to keep her mouth shut. “He has a soft spot for damsels in distress. It’s his biggest weakness.”
“I thought you were the one who lost the girl. Why aren’t you training me to fuck your nemesis?”
Devlin bristled at that.
“You were the one who lost the girl,” Vienna repeated harshly.
“Yes, I was,” he said, his voice dripping ice. “And it must be the reason that women aren’t a weakness of mine anymore. Listen to me. Keep your focus on your mission. Just on your mission, or somebody will pay. Somebody always pays.”
“What’s this about?” Michael asked from behind.
Vienna looked over her shoulder to find him hovering in the doorway. He glanced between the two of them, stepping into the room with a stormy look on his face.
She turned back to Devlin.
He shrugged with an elegant roll of his shoulders. “Leave.”
As she left the room, Michael gave her a look that seemed to say, “Don’t worry, I’m on your side.” Men could say all kinds of things out loud. What they supposedly felt, what they supposedly meant…but it was the emotion behind the look and the touch that spoke the truth. She took a last look behind her as Michael prepared for battle with his brother and felt a strange little twinge in her heart. He cares. But does he care enough?
Michael waited for the sound of Vienna’s heels to fade out before he turned back to his brother. “Well?”
“You know what it’s about,” Devlin said. “I’m reminding her to retain her objectivity.”
“You think she needs a reminder? This is a life-and-death mission.”
“Do you think she really understands that?”
“You had no right to interfere. She’s my responsibility.”
“This is our mission. Or have you forgotten?”
“The mission. The goddamn mission. I’m not you, Devlin. I’m not you, am I? You might have no place for love anymore, but I still do.”
“Who said anything about love? You can’t be in love with this girl.” Devlin looked genuinely horrified.
“I’m not…I mean, I feel…I…there’s something about her. It’s hard to explain.”
“It’s not hard to explain.” Devlin glowered at his brother. “You’re this close to breaking the rule.”
“Fuck the damn rule!”
Devlin turned white.
Michael shook his fists. “There is a happy medium out there somewhere.”
“That’s what I would have said a long time ago, before any of this happened. But women come and go, and we’ve always said blood was thicker. It’s what got us in this mess in the first place, and it’s what will get us out.” Devlin rose from his desk and moved to the bar where an open bottle of champagne sat on melting ice.
Michael watched Devlin pour himself another glass. “I don’t know which brother I like better,” he whispered, surprised at the menace in his own voice. “The one who has feelings and who scares you or the one who has no feelings and scares me. Dev, you’ve got to let all this anger go.”
Devlin laughed darkly.
“What’s so funny?” Michael asked.
No answer at first. His brother guzzled more champagne, some of it slipping down his neck, soaking into an otherwise perfectly crisp collar. “He’s winning again. It took only one beautiful woman to break apart three lifelong friends. And it will take only one to drive a dagger between the rema
ining two.” Devlin’s lips twisted. “We had an understanding. A rule. Never let a woman cloud your judgment and come between us. We were going to get revenge. We were going to show him up.” He put down his champagne flute and took Michael by the shoulders. “I want revenge, Michael. Don’t mess it up by falling for that girl. You’ve got to be willing to lose her completely.”
It’s too late. I’ve already fallen for her. “I can work it out.”
“There isn’t anything to work out. Give Vienna to Pierce and let her do the job we bought her for. Otherwise, Pierce wins.”
Michael paled. “Devlin, the mission is still on. It’s just that—”
Devlin put up his palm and shook his head. Grasping the crystal in one hand and the nearly empty bottle in the other, he walked out of his office.
Devlin was a strong man, a strong-minded one at that. But as Michael came to the door and watched him staggering half-drunk down the Persian hall runner, it would have been obvious to anyone that while Julia was long gone, the heart she’d broken still lay in pieces all over the mansion.
As far as Michael was concerned, Pierce already had won, several times over. Devlin’s obsession and Michael’s guilt were victory in and of itself.
Seven
Pierce Mackey’s bodyguards spent a long time searching Vienna’s high-end shopping bag and evening purse. But even if they’d missed something, there was nothing special about her lipstick, mints, cash, and keys. And certainly nothing they could object to about the brand-new lingerie. They’d finally escorted her up the ramp to the yacht and down into his personal quarters below.
Pierce’s yacht was textbook. All glossy wood paneling and crystal decanters. Large enough to impress and small enough to create the illusion of intimacy in spite of the armed bodyguards on the deck above.
Her time with Michael out on the party circuit had done her some good, actually; the trappings of wealth didn’t seem so foreign and any discomfort she might reveal could be attributed to guilt over cheating on the guy who’d given her so much.
Pierce Mackey was undeniably a good-looking man, but in Vienna’s opinion he lacked something the Kingston brothers possessed—flair. His choices for the game of seduction revealed a lack of originality that made the arrangement seem even more like a job and less like a date.