by Shayla Black
Damnation. He couldn’t let her escape. He couldn’t let her play the wounded bird. Callum would fall right into that trap, and Rory, who was already half under her spell, would follow.
“Where is she going? Is Tori all right?” Claire approached, wearing a concerned expression.
Naturally, his siblings would take her side. Perhaps they wouldn’t when he proved she was nothing more than a doe-eyed hustler. “I don’t know, but I’ll find out. Help Callum get ready for his speech. Make sure his tie is on properly. He should be announcing how much money we’ve raised in the next fifteen minutes.”
“Is something troubling you, Oliver?” His sister had always been able to see through him.
He schooled his features into a polite mask and placated her. “Nothing. I’ll make certain Tori is safe.”
From everyone except him.
He left Claire and followed Tori down the hall, the world getting quieter as they put distance between them and the glittery ballroom.
Ahead of him, she sniffled but didn’t seem to notice anyone following. That didn’t surprise him. She’d never once noticed when he’d followed her before.
She managed to wend her way to a hall that led out of the building. When she darted outside into the cool, humid evening, she took a deep breath, then sighed as though relieved to be free of the pomp and the people.
Oliver was relieved as well. Now he could hunt her down properly.
Then again, she should be easy prey. She had no way back to her corporate flat. She’d come with them in the limo. Was she going to try to navigate the Tube in a designer dress that left her looking half naked and four-inch heels that would break on the first grate she stepped onto?
Absently, he wondered why she behaved with such maudlin desperation. She had Cal under her finger. All she had to do was bat her lashes and cry prettily. He would likely drop everything to take her home.
With a curse, Oliver texted his driver his location and continued following her on foot. When she got to the end of the street, she hailed a cab.
Luckily his car pulled up and he climbed in. “Follow the taxi, Charles.”
It didn’t take long before he realized she was heading back to her flat. Within minutes, the cab arrived in front of the building where Thurston-Hughes housed its visiting employees. Tori got out and turned to pay the driver with money she’d tucked into a clever pocket in her skirt.
The street was quiet at this time of night, though no part of London was ever really deserted. He watched as she stepped into the light under a streetlamp. She’d been crying again. It was there in the pink of her skin, the slight puffiness around her eyes.
Did she feel guilty now for cheating on her fiancé? Was she going to tell him that she’d been unfaithful or would she pretend it had never happened?
Tori made it to the door and swiped her card through the reader. The door popped open. He was about to tell Charles to pull away when a man dressed in head-to-toe black sprinted from the shadows and slipped in before the door closed behind them. A ski mask covered his face.
Oliver bolted out of the car. It looked like he would finally get that fight he needed after all.
CHAPTER FIVE
Tori sniffled as she stepped through the stark, contemporary lobby of her building, toward the lifts. Her heels clicked against the marble tile in the eerily empty space. She was alone. The hour wasn’t late, but it seemed as if everyone was either tucked in for the night or out on the town. The building employed a maintenance worker and a manager, but not a doorman. She usually liked the privacy and tonight was no exception. The last thing she wanted was someone she knew seeing her walk of shame. Of course it wasn’t morning, but slinking back here after running out on Callum felt wretched, both professionally and personally.
Her heels continued clomping against the floor, reminding her that she wasn’t used to walking in anything so high. She usually wore practical shoes because she was on her feet most of the day, nothing like these princess shoes she was going to have to figure out a way to return.
Groaning, she reached down and pulled the shoes off. Her feet ached, but that was nothing compared to the rest of her. She was weary. Her whole bright future in public relations seemed to have vanished with one foolish act, and the biggest idiocy of it all? She would be damned for spreading her legs at a work event for one of her bosses, and she hadn’t even gotten to have sex.
What did her virginity really mean if she didn’t give it to someone worthwhile? She loved Callum, and he would have made sure she enjoyed the act.
Maybe her virginity was holding her back. She’d come to that conclusion during the cab ride back to her flat. An experienced woman wouldn’t have lied about her engagement because she was worried about being hit on. She would have refused the men she didn’t want and dated the ones she did. An experienced woman wouldn’t have stood in front of Oliver Thurston-Hughes and felt shame slither down her spine. She wouldn’t have felt like a whore because she hadn’t done anything wrong. Okay, maybe the timing hadn’t been spectacular, but still… If she’d been a man caught with a woman’s hands down his pants, there would have been a quick cover-up and a shrug.
When she returned to the States, Tori intended to find some decent guy, have some hopefully decent sex, get the virginity thing behind her, then move on with her life. After that, she wouldn’t be the sort of girl who lived her life like a nun and turned into a puddle of goo the minute some hot man put his hands on her. Nope, she would be experienced then. She would take charge.
The plan seemed logical…but she didn’t love it. Thankfully, she didn’t have to unravel this mess and figure out her future tonight. She would chalk up her time in London as a lesson. She’d spend a couple weeks’ vacation in Bezakistan and hold a bunch of babies and try to forget that she’d ever come to England. Back in the U.S., she’d start over professionally and romantically.
A little squeak behind Tori made her pause. It sounded like the rubber soles of sneakers on the marble floor. She whirled and saw a large man creeping up behind her, his face covered by a ski mask. He held a wicked-looking knife. Terror flooded her as she gasped. She thought about running but knew she wouldn’t get far with her aching feet.
“Give me the jewelry,” he snarled.
Tori took a steady breath to quell her shaking. Surely, CCTV cameras lurked in the corners and someone would see what was happening. They would send help, right?
She heard the ding of the lift and considered making a dash for safety. Maybe she could surprise him and get the doors closed between them before he caught her. She couldn’t give up the jewelry. It was too expensive. She could never repay Callum if she lost it.
“Don’t even think about it, bitch.” Her assailant grabbed her wrist, wrenching it as he pulled her close.
His meaty fist tightened around her wrist. Pain flared. She tried to jerk free. “Help!”
“There’s no one to hear you.” He sounded snide. “I can already see this job will have benefits. I was told to have a little fun with you.” He yanked her close and pressed the knife against her ribs. “I think it’s time we take this party to your flat. If you scream one more time, I’ll cut you. And I’ll still have my way with you. I don’t mind if you get a little cold.”
Abject horror threatened to overtake Tori. Her entire being revolted at the idea, but before she could fight him, the man grunted and stumbled back, releasing her.
Tori heard the knife clatter to the floor, then turned to see the big attacker whirled around—and Oliver manhandling him.
Relief poured through her. She couldn’t quite breathe. Oliver was here. He’d pulled her attacker away. She probably shouldn’t be relieved that a CEO had come to take on a street thug, but she wasn’t alone anymore. He was risking himself for her. They would defeat him together.
As Oliver punched up with an uppercut, she grabbed the closest thing she could, a solid-looking lamp next to a table beside the lifts. She picked it up and swung it around, plo
wing the base into the attacker’s skull as Oliver kicked the thug in the balls.
The CEO didn’t fight fair, it seemed.
Her assailant doubled over with a grunt, clutching his balls.
“What the hell do you want?” Oliver growled.
The other man didn’t answer for a long moment, just groaned like a wounded animal. As Tori wondered how badly they’d hurt him, he jumped to his feet, shouldering Oliver aside. He stumbled toward the door, grabbing his knife from the tile, then burst out onto the street. With a curse, Oliver started after him.
“Wait.” Tori grabbed his sleeve.
He spun around to her. Blood trickled from his lip, onto his shirt. Breathing heavily, he swiped his thumb over the drop at the corner of his mouth and glanced down at the crimson smeared over his skin.
The savage look he wore made her take a step back. “Oliver?”
He sucked in a breath and seemed to force himself off the ledge. “You made me lose him. He’s gone.”
“What were you thinking, chasing after him? He could have killed you.” Her pounding heart pumped adrenaline through her system.
Oliver pulled out his cell. “Or I could have killed him. Have you thought of that? What did he want?”
She touched her throat.
Oliver rolled his deep blue eyes. “Of course. You thought it was a good idea to traipse around London after dark, wearing a fortune in jewels. You got what you deserved for that foolishness.”
Anger flared. He’d been determined to make her miserable all night. “Yes, well, he also wanted to rape me. I’m sure I deserved that, too.”
Oliver clenched his jaw. “You should have let me kill the bastard. All I can do now is ring the police.”
And then her well-meaning brothers-in-law would probably smother her with guards and take away her freedom. “No. Please, don’t. We don’t have a description of him. We don’t have anything to go on. It would be a huge waste of time.”
“And the sheikh would find out if you filed a police report detailing the attack.”
Well, she’d never accused him of being dumb. “If he finds out something like this happened, I will likely find myself in the custody of the royal guard.”
“Well, we can’t have that.” He pocketed the phone. “Do you mind if I clean up?”
“Go ahead.” He could take the jewelry with him when he left and return it to Callum. Then she’d have one less thing to do before she left London.
She crossed the lobby to the lift, which still sat open. Her hands shook as she entered, still clutching her shoes, with Oliver following behind. She pressed the button for four. Her floor. Well, not for much longer.
“Do you have anything to drink?” Oliver asked after they’d ascended and the doors opened again.
“I have a little bottle of Scotch.” Her neighbors had brought it over as a gift after she’d collected their mail while they were on holiday.
“Excellent.” Oliver stopped in front of her door.
He’d never been here. How had he known what flat she lived in? She let it go. Why question it? It didn’t really matter.
She pulled the key out of the hidden pocket in her dress, but she was still shaking.
Oliver wrapped his big hand around her own, warming her icy skin. “Give it to me.”
He didn’t wait for her reply, just took the keys from her. With steady fingers, he opened the door, ushering her inside.
The minute they were alone, he turned on her, charging into her space, and pressed his body to hers against the back of the door. “He could have killed you. He could have raped you and killed you.”
He could have. And she would have lost something precious that should have been hers to give. A violent stranger could have taken it from her before he killed her, and she would never have known what it meant to lie with a man she cared about.
Oliver Thurston-Hughes had been a dick to her this evening, but it didn’t wash away all the months of his kindness, his friendship. Maybe that should make her want him less, but it didn’t.
As she stared at him, separated by only a few feet, their breaths rough, all she could think about was him and the regret she’d have if she let this moment pass and never knew what it felt like to touch this man she loved.
When his mouth descended on hers, the adrenaline that coursed through her body morphed into a desperate arousal. She softened against him, ready to have him in any way she could.
* * * *
“What do you mean she’s gone?”
Rory looked at His Highness, the Royal Sheikh of Bezakistan, and wished the night would end. “Tori wasn’t feeling well and she decided to go back to her place.”
Talib al Mussad’s eyes narrowed as though he’d detected a lie. “Without informing her sister? That seems very unlike Tori. She is always quite thoughtful about such things. Piper raised her, you see. She wouldn’t leave without informing my wife. It’s a bit of a habit. She rarely lets a day pass without informing her sister where she is and how she’s doing.”
“She wasn’t feeling well.” It was all Rory could think to say. It wasn’t surprising that Tori was close to her sister, even though they lived in different countries. From what he understood, they’d always been very close, especially after their parents had died.
“As I said, Tori definitely would have sought out her sister.”
If he didn’t deal with the sheikh, the entire al Mussad clan would leave this event and go straight to Tori’s. And Rory would be shocked if those overprotective men didn’t haul her off to the palace where he’d never see her again. “She wanted some time alone.”
“Why? I can only imagine she would desire such a thing if she was upset.”
It was time to start staking a claim, as the Americans would say. Callum had pushed the subject earlier. Tonight’s debacle would affect all of them, so no one could pretend that Tori was merely a colleague or a friend anymore. Rory knew he had to push through. One way or another, Tori was going to belong to the Thurston-Hughes family, and it was time the al Mussads learned that.
“I believe she’s weighing her options. My brother is very interested in pursuing something serious with Tori. He’s quite in love with her and he expressed his feelings tonight.” He’d nearly expressed his semen as well, but the sheikh didn’t need those details.
Talib frowned and heaved a long sigh. “I believe it is far too soon for her to consider such a request, and I would need to speak to Oliver myself.”
“It’s not Oliver. Rather, it’s Callum.”
That had Talib’s right eyebrow rising in aristocratic query. “I’m not a fool, Mr. Thurston-Hughes. Oliver is interested in Tori.”
How to explain it? It was harder given the man’s lifestyle. Rory shrugged. “Perhaps, but Callum has chosen to press his claim.”
At least he didn’t have to worry about Talib being offended by the use of that word. The man seemed to take a very old-fashioned approach to the women in his life.
“And what of your claim?”
“I don’t have one.”
The sheikh sent him a knowing stare. “But you want her.”
Rory tried to shrug it off. “She’s a beautiful woman. You should know that I intend to treat her with every kindness and courtesy, as I would my own sister.”
“I sincerely doubt you spend your nights dreaming of sex with your own sister.”
“Of course not!”
“That is why the arrangement you speak of will not work and I will not give my blessing.” He smoothed down his jacket, his decision seemingly made. “I thank you for your kindness to my sister, but I’m afraid I’ll be taking her home with me tomorrow morning. I’ll send someone from the palace to pack her things. Whatever penalty she incurs for leaving her job before the end of her contract, send the bill my direction. That will be all.”
“Excuse me?” Rory might not be royalty, but he wasn’t used to being dismissed.
The sheikh stared at him for a moment. “We’re don
e here, so you may leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere and, unless Tori consents, neither is she. This is the twenty-first century, and if you think for a second I’ll do your bidding because some random bit of DNA landed you a sovereign role, you should think again. I won’t let Tori go without a fight and you should know I don’t always fight clean.”
A little smile curled up the sheikh’s mouth, and Rory wondered if he hadn’t fallen into a well-placed trap. “Now I see a man I can talk to. I do not understand the stiff politeness of you British. When it comes to our women, a man should be a bit savage.”
Rory certainly felt that way now, despite the fact that she wasn’t his. “Tori will make her own decision.”
“Tori is too shy and naïve to ask for what she wants. Until she learns, I will look after her. You and your brothers will either get on the same page or you will let her go.”
“I am working on that.” Callum’s hotheaded moments aside, Rory had believed they were on the same page. “The plan has been to back Oliver’s play. I’m afraid he waited too long, and now Callum won’t step back.”
“The fact that you call it a play urges me to remove Tori now. We aren’t discussing a game or a pawn. This is her life. For the record, I wasn’t talking about the three of you deciding which brother should have the woman you all love. The three of you should stop being selfish children and figure out how you will share her or stay away. If you and your brothers do not, you will leave her forever torn, and I won’t have it. She has feelings for you all. Perhaps you are willing to martyr yourself for your so-called brotherhood, but think about her. By forcing her to choose, you ask her to give up pieces of her heart. You are right, Rory Thurston-Hughes, you have no claim. When you grow up and learn to put her first, you may call me. Until then, leave my sister alone.”
“Do you think it’s that easy?” He was getting really sick of being treated like a child. Talib couldn’t know how much he’d sacrificed for his family, how far he was willing to go. “Have you had to watch your brother slowly kill himself? Have you watched as he endured something so brutal and world-changing that you were certain he could never be the same again?”