Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5)

by Nancy Haviland

  “Do Eric’s friends often come sniffing around? Have many of them tried to claim you?”

  She stared at him as her chest rose and fell, her heart beating so fast it was a throb in her neck. She searched his face for any sign of regret. She found none. “Don’t you care at all that your behavior affects me in a way that is far from positive?”

  “I have brought you on an expense-free vacation to Romania. You are staying at Fier Fortress, a castle whose construction began in 1647 and is filled with art you will wet your silky panties over once you look beyond your out-of-joint nose. I am willing to give you anything you request to make your stay as enjoyable as possible. I will feed you only the best foods, allow you to drink only the finest of wines, and I will pleasure you until your exquisite body cannot sustain one more climax before it breaks completely. I am giving you this without asking for a thing in return but a smile, some sporadic casual conversation, and free access. Explain to me what is far from positive about what I just outlined, Yasmeen?”

  As he’d listed what he evidently considered perks, her anger seeped away. That was how he saw this? A paid vacation with good eats and occasional orgasms? Tears burned the back of her throat. As a person, she meant absolutely nothing to him. She could be anyone. He’d stipulated “sporadic, casual conversation” because he didn’t want to be bothered with anything more. Why? Because there was no interest. He may have chosen her, but he didn’t want her. He didn’t care that she was upset. She was here to be used as a toy. A walking, talking fleshlight.

  She dropped her chin and tried to shake off the chill seeping through her clothes. She wanted to reprimand him for discounting her as a person. But what was the point?

  She kept her hurt feelings to herself, worked her head back up where she’d vowed always to hold it, and left him standing there while she continued down the drafty corridor on her own.

  THIRTEEN

  Lucian watched his oversensitive pet leave him. She walked with the grace of a dancer. Her back long and straight, head high. She was a proud woman, and he was damaging that pride by keeping her at arm’s length. She wanted to mean something to him, and by not allowing her in, he was making her feel bad.

  He looked down at his shoes. He understood pride. Because of that, he would appease her. He would let her know how much he…liked her. How much he liked having her with him. As Sorin had said, she was amusing. He would let her know he thought so. But he would let her wait for it because he didn’t want her thinking she would be rewarded for sulking.

  He pushed off the wall and followed, taking no time to reach the reception area at the end of the hallway just outside the ballroom.

  “Returning to our earlier conversation, this castle was given to me to pay a debt.” A blip of amusement poked at him when she didn’t turn from the window to acknowledge his presence. He accepted the slight because he’d upset her. She was human, and he had to allow for hurt feelings. To a point. “The owner frequented one of my casinos. When he maxed out the advance we generously allowed him, he moved onto another, and then another. Those two gambling houses also happened to be mine, and my employees were dispatched to collect what was due to us. Because the man was foolish and couldn’t pay his debt that was now six figures, he was given the option of a trade. His life for something of value. When I refused to take his only daughter, he signed over the castle.” Lucian thought of the subtle changes he’d authorized over the last while. “I have had a team refurbishing it for over eight years now. They are doing a satisfactory job, but it will not be complete for at least two more years.”

  “So you would have killed the disgusting asshole for being poor?”

  He joined her at the window, looking at her in the reflection rather than at the gloomy, snow-covered grounds. “I would have had him killed for using my money to feed his habit, and then not being man enough to take responsibility for his actions. The fact that he attempted to use his child as a bargaining piece was nothing but sad.”

  “No kidding.”

  Her lack of reaction had his focus going to her profile. “I would have had him killed if he hadn’t paid his debt,” he repeated, feeling a stirring somewhere in his gut because she wasn’t shrinking back from him over that admission.

  “If I do something, own it, or you end me. Got it.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “I would not end you.”

  Her head tilted, and she gazed up at him. Her lashes were thick and long, and the two plumes feathered over her high cheeks with every blink of her dark eyes. “Right. You would roll up a newspaper and swat me on the nose until I learned my lesson. Forgot.” Her look was just shy of withering as she walked away. She waited at the tall doors of the ballroom without being rude by barging in on her own. Never would he have thought manners could be sexy.

  He watched her for a moment. Would he prefer she merely stood in his vicinity, silent, waiting for him to use her? Or should he continue to allow her to voice her catty barbs and snooty comments? “Where did you pick up this caustic disposition?”

  “Hunts Point. Wasn’t that detail in the report you got from your employees?”

  “Do you speak with such insolence to everyone you know?”

  “No, Lucian.” She flashed him a dazzling smile that was exceptionally fake. “Only you, because you’re so very special.”

  Suddenly, like a portal had opened in his mind, Lucian saw his twelve-year-old self standing in the study of his home in Bucharest, his beloved father seated on the chaise lounger before him.

  “Let go of this urge you have to follow in my footsteps, son. Your talents would be wasted in a classroom. We will find you a suitable mentor in your mother’s family, and together we will develop this natural ability you have. But first, you must accept that you were born to lead men, not to follow them.”

  “Will Markus also have a mentor, Papa?”

  “No, Lucian. Only you, because you are so very special.”

  The memory bubble popped and oozed blood, and Lucian felt pain and helplessness butt up against his shell. The solid wall refused it entry, but it didn’t go away. It receded, and contented itself with having to wait. And it would. Until he was easy prey. Then it would strike, just as it always did.

  “I have decided to punish you,” he said, making the snap decision.

  “Punish me?” Her demeanor changed in an instant. She unfolded her arms and braced herself as if she thought he might attack her. “What does that mean?”

  “It means I will make you regret being foolish enough to think this is an acceptable way to behave for your owner.”

  She backed away from him as he neared. “You can’t do that. And you can stop referring to yourself in that way,” she snapped. “I don’t like it.”

  “Oh? Why?”

  “Because it couldn’t be more disrespectful.”

  “I beg to differ. There are many, many ways I could disrespect you. As a friend, a woman. As a very person. I could damage your self-worth to the point where you would not remember ever having it.” She paled, but for no reason. He had no interest in mentally harming his treasure. “But I will not do anything of the sort because I like you as you are, Yasmeen. I have no intention of repeating this to appease your need to hear things more than once, but know I find you very entertaining and I am glad to have you here with me. That should please you. Even as you irritate me with all this conversation, you are saving lives.” He winked to let her think he was joking when he wasn’t. “Now, drop this attitude. I want to spend some time with the pet who fell asleep by the fire last night. Who knows, if you quit drawing out my temper, you might find my company almost tolerable.”

  Her hands stopped twisting in front of her, and her head tipped to the side. He wasn’t sure which part of his seemingly endless speech caused it, but the air around them lost its charge and gentled.

  “Lucian.” Such a soft, feathery tone. “I find your company more than tolerable when you’re not acting like an arrogant ass. If fact, I real
ly like you. You’re one of the most charming men I’ve ever known. You make me feel like a nympho on roids, and, seriously, your witty humor—that many people likely miss—is great.” She moved into him and placed her hands on his chest. “I would have voluntarily joined you on this trip if you’d just asked. And, I’m sorry for bristling, but I can’t help being really, really bothered when you invade my privacy. Really bothered,” she stressed. In case he misunderstood the emphasis she’d put on the already repeated word? “It’s the same when you’re condescending and rude. Or when you take away my freedom of choice. Or when you treat me like I don’t matter. You don’t need me to tell you no one likes to feel invisible and powerless.”

  He swiped his thumb across her lips before cupping her face. The way her features had been put together earned their Creator Lucian’s highest praise. She fascinated him the same way art fascinated her. Her open expressions that forced him to see how she was feeling whether he wanted to or not. The way the light in her eyes brightened when she became excited, and darkened when she was aroused or angry. The way she licked her lips when she wanted his.

  “I remember these lips around my cock. Your enthusiasm made it difficult to control myself.” He grew thoughtful. “That is not a problem I am normally faced with. I want to feel the wetness of your mouth again. The heat.” Would she get to him in the same way?

  She sighed, and he was able to feel her face heat under his palms. “You’re not listening to me, Lucian. Why can’t you see how insulting that is?” She loosely gripped his wrists. “What if someone with more power than you came in and took me away? Nipped this sex party in the bud. Made it so you never got that blow job you want. Made it so you couldn’t dole out this absurd punishment I want no part of. Wouldn’t you be angry if your choice to have me or not no longer existed, your wants and needs deemed unimportant?”

  He was hard. So hard his loins were aching. “No. I would not get angry over such a thing. Because it would not happen. My need to keep you here is so extreme that I am more than willing to use less than civilized methods to accommodate it. That means I would kill this person who attempted to take you and probably fuck you in his blood just to add insult to injury.”

  A tiny jolt shook her body. He was polite enough not to comment but did take immense pleasure in watching desire flirt with the tinge of fear on her face. She responded to his darkness.

  “I know you’re being deliberately shocking.” She sounded suspiciously breathless. “Hoping to, well, I don’t know what you’re hoping to gain from it. Do you want me to fear you?”

  A growl escaped before he could stop it. Her bravado was sexy. As was the way she continued to stare at his mouth. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it would prove your intelligence is as impressive as your beauty.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I’m more than nice skin and healthy hair, you know?”

  She didn’t retreat when he untucked her shirt and stole under the hem. He was a perfect gentleman by keeping to the warm skin of her waist. Though he did slide his palm around until he reached her lower back so he could gently tug her forward. He kept his hips angled so she didn’t feel his erection.

  “I am aware of that.” So soft. He would spend some time in the indent of her spine later. For now, he caressed it with the tips of his fingers.

  “No, you’re not,” she said, her gaze on his throat.

  “Yasmeen. I am well aware you possess other talents.” He examined her doubtful look before adding, “I know how you coming onboard has improved the reputation of my gallery. It may be a small venture compared to my other holdings, but I still pay attention to the bottom line because it is a business, and it is one of mine.” Lies. He kept it under a microscope because she was there.

  Her eyes slowly came up, and he watched her pupils blow, her body stiffening like drying clay under a hot sun. “What did you say?” she whispered.

  Goddammit. And that slip-up was why he didn’t want to converse with her outside of telling her to arch her back or spread her legs wider.

  He ran a hand through his hair and looked down the corridor. He seriously considered walking away to avoid what he knew was coming. For some reason, those he tried to help always centered on privacy and control issues. Why couldn’t they accept his aid in the manner it was given? Freely and with no need for acknowledgment. He was in a position to help. Why would they not let him?

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Yasmeen’s mind was reeling, flipping back twenty-three months to when she’d gotten a call saying there was a job opening at a gallery in Queens, and as a recent graduate from NYU, she was encouraged to apply. She’d nearly killed herself in her haste to reach the place to speak with the curator; on the very same floor where she’d met Lucian only weeks before.

  She made to step back, but his arm tightened around her. “My gallery is owned by LDF Holdings,” she said. “I’ve never seen Fane Enterprises on anything that’s crossed my desk.” She pushed at him. He didn’t budge. “Do you know where I work? I think you must be mistaken. Do you know where I work?” she repeated, trying not to let her emotions get the better of her. Maybe he was wrong. He couldn’t be her boss.

  Her skin shrank on her body, her heart shriveling to match. Was the accomplishment she’d been so proud of, the one she thought she’d earned…was it all bullshit? Did her efforts to study hard and learn every goddamn thing her professors had taught have anything to do with where she was today?

  Not if Lucian had placed her in her current position at Nebulous.

  If her gallery was his, her body had once more gotten her where she needed to be. Only this time it was in her prized job rather than in that final class she’d needed to graduate college.

  Lucian’s next words smashed through any pride she’d felt at being the one her haughty boss had chosen as his second. “I am LDF Holdings; Lucian Darius Fane.” His head tipped at an arrogant angle. “Nebulous World Art, the gallery not far from the medical center in Flushing, is mine. Therefore, I must know where it is located because I know where all of my favored interests are located. You, for instance, live in a three-story house near 35th and Bell, not far from Crocheron Park where you run every morning. You take up the third level, a Yoga studio is on the main, and an older gentleman resides in between. Richard Jaimeson is a retired homicide detective from Chicago. Do you know him personally or is he just the landlord?”

  Shock held her immobile. She didn’t know what to say to this. She’d never told him these things, so he shouldn’t know them, goddammit. Yet he did because he knew nothing of personal boundaries.

  His lip quirked at the corner, but there was no humor in his eyes. “You look pale, draga.”

  Her nostrils flared. “I’m scared of you, and I sort of hate you now, too.”

  “Do you?” He tugged her into motion, bringing her back down the corridor that had brought them there. “The tour can wait. I do not like your color. It should improve with something to eat.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she murmured, trying to keep up with his long stride with legs that felt like rubber. “Why do you know those things, Lucian? Why have you looked into me so thoroughly? Why didn’t I know you owned my gallery? Did I have anything to do with—” She didn’t finish because she wasn’t sure she could handle the answer right then. She could barely breathe around how inconsequential she felt. She was a fraud, having taken such pride in something she’d had nothing to do with.

  “I’d like a room of my own. And I want to go there right now.”

  “We will retire after I have fed you.”

  “I don’t want to be fed. I want to go to my room. My room. I want one of my own.”

  “I’m afraid you are going to be disappointed then, pet, because you belong in my room, and it is my wish to put some nutrition into your body. We will retire after I have fed you.”

  Inconsequential. What she wanted didn’t matter. What she said didn’t matter. What she felt didn’t matter. This grie
ving billionaire was pulling the strings, and she was to act accordingly.

  She grew numb and didn’t say anything more as they made their way through the castle. He checked his phone a few times when it beeped, but he also stayed silent. They entered a dining room that would have easily swallowed her apartment. The scent of dinner made her glands water but not in anticipation of eating. She wanted to throw up. On the walls hung priceless artwork. The doors and crown molding were carved and polished. There were narrow floor-to-ceiling windows partly covered in stunning tapestries. There was another that beckoned one to it for the warmth it would provide. A sideboard along the one wall had small silver trays with the little blue flames lit beneath to keep their contents warm.

  Yasmeen discounted everything but the hollowness in her chest.

  “Sit.”

  She sat in the chair he pulled out and tensed when he squatted in front of her.

  He took her hands and kissed both her palms before laying them flat on her thighs. “I am aware of how it must sound to you, but it was not my intention to upset you by admitting I have kept tabs on you. After you left me the last time, I felt the need to protect you. I could not do that if I was ignorant to the details of your life. I have never personally been inside your apartment, though I have seen you running through the park on three separate occasions. I have been by the gallery more often than that and have…observed you in your element. I sat in a small Thai restaurant and watched you with your friends, Miranda and Eric. Just the once. Again, I felt the need to see you around those you were most comfortable with.” He smoothed his hands over hers and kept going down her legs until he reached her calves. “You were the same. In every instance, you were…you. I was very impressed by that. Proud of you, if you will.”