He would never have guessed. “You have a convincing mask.”
She nodded, taking his comment seriously in that way she often did. “One of a few. You said you have business here. You sure this isn’t your way of giving me a taste of the South of France without actually taking me there?”
“No, draga,” he murmured, his attention captured by a man standing a few feet away—one he kept in his periphery. “If I wanted to give you a taste, I would do so with the real thing.”
“I know you would. So, how long do we have to stay here?”
He focused on her. “You would rather be somewhere else?”
“Sure. Okay. I’ll give your ego a boost it doesn’t need. I’d actually like to go back to Fane manor and curl up in front of the fireplace. I’d even make some noise when you played with my hair to let you know how much I love it.” She scanned the faces around them, adding under her breath, “It’s slightly less judgy there.”
When the invasive stare coming from only yards away went down for the third time and locked on Yasmeen’s ass, Lucian placed his hand on the work of art. The block was successful in shifting the man’s attention, and Lucian and his demons gleefully stared the idiot down.
Protection closed in to form a barrier when Hector Sala had the skin to approach. “Well, if it isn’t the man himself. How are you, Lucian?”
“Hector.” He didn’t shake the hand that was offered and it was dropped.
“I wasn’t aware you’d come home. Will you be here long?”
“Why do you want to know?”
Bleached teeth flashed when Hector smiled. “Just making conversation since we’re in a social situation. You shouldn’t stay locked away in that palace you came into too easily. Maybe you’d remember your manners.”
“Only to waste them on someone like you?”
The cocky grin slipped. “Right. I heard about Markus.”
Lucian stilled as Yasmeen’s body stiffened against him.
“Sucks. You consoling yourself with this one?” he asked, reverting to their language. “I’ve never seen you with a whore. Goddamn. She must be setting you back thousands. But the good ones are well worth it. Isn’t like you can’t afford her.” He chuckled and continued to strip Yasmeen with his offensive stare.
Sorin took offense to that, and for the first time in memory, deferred his position to Spencer and stepped around to blatantly cut Hector’s view off.
“Such a sweet meathead you have,” Yasmeen whispered to him as she gave Sorin’s wide shoulder an appreciative pat.
Lucian agreed and took out his phone to send a text that would put their cleaning crew on standby. “Is your father here tonight, Hector?” Will he witness your death?
“The old man doesn’t leave the house much since I took over.” He straightened, and did his best to pull in his protruding gut. “That’s why we’re not lining your pockets anymore, Fane, because there are some brains at the helm now.”
“Brains. Yes.” All over the floor. “Excuse us.”
Sorin bulldozed a path, and Lucian placed his pet in front of him before he traveled it. Patience. He was definitely learning it.
“Who was that?” Yasmeen asked, her tone now freely reflecting her distaste.
“Hector Sala. His father used to come to our house to fuck my mother when my father was at work.”
His step faltered when she stopped and turned. She slipped her hand into his and pulled him to the side. That softness was coming over her face. The one that told him she was feeling sorry for him. “Please tell me your business here tonight isn’t with the son.”
“No, sadly it isn’t. But I still might get him alone. If I do, I will be sure to warn you to look away before I do anything that might shock you.”
She blanched. “Uh, like what? Why would you do anything to him? Because of what his father did?”
“No. Because of who his father raised.” He accepted two glasses from Spencer—one of the seven who formed the protective circle around them. Lucian handed a glass to Yasmeen and could feel the heat from Sorin’s body he was standing so close.
His pet sniffed the contents of the crystal. “What is it?”
“Chardonnay.”
Their eyes met, and she tipped her chin down so that she was peering up at him through her long lashes. Seeing her so heavily made up, the urges coming to him weren’t good ones for her.
“That’s it?” she questioned in a soft tone. “No roofie?”
Would anyone notice if he pinned her to the roulette table behind them and counted her perfect teeth with his tongue? “Are you attempting to distract me, pet?”
“Yes, sir. Is it working?” She smiled cheekily.
“Do not call me Sir. I do not need such an abused title. It is a shame what they have done to something that used to be so powerful.” He nodded to her glass. “It is an aphrodisiac. Drink up. It should take effect within moments of you imbibing, and you should be begging me to take you only moments after that.”
She laughed, sounding breathless and angelic. When she stepped closer, her scent swept up his nose and he grew dizzy with lust. “Did Frosty just make a funny? Yikes. Keep it up and I’ll never be able to resist you.”
Did she still think to resist him?
“And an aphrodisiac, did you say? So that’s what your secret is. Here I thought it was just chemistry. Is the gas form being pumped through the ventilation system at the castle? Is that why I feel like I’m in season whenever you enter the room?”
She was going all out in her attempt to distract. His very sight darkened, tightening his scope until all he saw was her. He found her ass among the smoky material of her dress and pulled her into his aching groin. Bringing his mouth to her ear, he inhaled once before speaking.
“No, draga mea. The hopeless yearning that invades this body when it is near its owner is not chemically induced. That reckless desperation that comes over you once I take you to a certain point? That is simply something you and I share. The urgency, the manic pressure that builds, the torturous journey to a fulfillment that never seems quite enough. Does this sound accurate?”
She didn’t answer. But then, she didn’t have to.
“That is us,” he informed her before straightening. “It is a curse I would bet my fortune one of my ancestors put on me: To never find complete satisfaction in the arms of the only one who can provide it.”
She looked stricken, and then her cheeks grew so pink she appeared feverish. “I don’t satisfy you?”
He gave his head a sharp shake and stroked her throat with his thumb. “You misunderstand. It is my greed that leaves me unsatisfied. You sate me, and my insatiable appetite for all things Yasmeen returns almost immediately. It pleads for more. Even my demons have begun to gorge themselves on you because they know one day they will no longer have the opportunity. That angers them. And me. Enough that I am considering making this a permanent arrangement. But first I must have that fortress built some place outsiders cannot intrude.”
He kissed her, vowing to finish up here as quickly as possible so he could get her home. Now that he’d put that alarm back in her eyes by revealing his thoughts, he needed to get her behind closed—locked—doors.
♦ ♦ ♦
Yasmeen forced a smile for the waiter holding out a small tray with what would be her second glass of white wine. “Thank you.” She took it but shook her head when he handed her a small plate with bite-sized triangles that looked like tiny sandwiches. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
He cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder. “The gentlemen thought you might be hungry.”
She peered around him from her seat on a curved leather couch that she was sharing with two other girlfriends or wives. They were against the wall in a room that was gold and green, and lit by massive chandeliers that hung from the domed ceiling. She was trying not to show how sick she felt over the decision she’d just made.
Lucian was at a private blackjack table across the way. He and th
e two men he’d come to see were the only players even though the five empty chairs were being stared at longingly by the men and women milling about.
“Please thank the gentleman, but I’m fine.” She dropped Lucian’s stare and held onto the smile that was about to shatter her face.
…considering making this a permanent arrangement. But first I must have that fortress built some place outsiders cannot intrude.
She couldn’t let him imprison her in a dark, underground hole that would probably be well decorated. She’d go insane. Her life would be over. The only human contact she would ever have would be with him. He would visit every so often, fuck her body, then leave her alone, effectively fucking her mind, just as he’d said he wanted to do. She would never see Miranda again, or Eric and Loki. She’d never again walk through the doors of her gallery and just breath in the atmosphere that fed her soul.
No. She couldn’t let him do it. She had to leave.
The moment Lucian’s attention was elsewhere, she took another surreptitious glance around, once more marking the exits. What the hell was with this place? The doors were only accessible from the outside. The staff had to use the one main entrance to leave the massive room, unless they pressed a doorbell type thing and wait forever for someone to admit them into a back corridor. Probably kept the money back there, she thought, watching two dealers exit the closest door that was less than ten feet away. If she got by Spencer, the guy Sorin had introduced earlier, and darted through when someone came out, she could at least have enough time to beg someone to call the police. Would they listen? Side with her? Simply hand her back to her warden? She fingered her choker that seemed to be getting tighter and tighter. How harshly would Lucian punish her if she failed and had to return to the castle with him?
Didn’t matter. She had to try. She couldn’t live in a hole.
Her attention went to him again, and she experienced loss to a crippling degree at the thought of leaving him. He needed her.
She needed him.
“Sorry. I do not mean to be rude, but, did I see you refuse something your man sent over?”
Yasmeen looked at the rail-thin blonde next to her that had lips like the ones she used to buy at the variety store when she was younger. The wax ones she and the neighborhood kids would wear and pretend they’d just been punched in the mouth and had swollen up.
“Yes, I did. I’m not hungry yet,” she explained without adding how badly she wanted to vomit.
“Wow. You are very brave. I would never dare send away something my Lawrence sent to me.”
Her Lawrence had obviously never sent her food before because it looked as if she hadn’t eaten in about three weeks. “We’re having dinner when he’s done, so he can watch me eat then.” She smiled as the woman cataloged the price of her dress and shoes.
“Will he not punish you first?” the other blonde said. The neckline of her dress was so open, the shadow of her nipple was on display. She’d adjusted it twice. To show more. “I heard Kahlil speak of your man. He is harsh and brutal. He has been known to use his women until there is nothing left of them to use. Kahlil said he once tired of his latest, and since they were on his yacht and he could not send her away, he passed her onto his men. They fucked her to death and then threw her body overboard for the sharks. No one bothered to investigate because why would they? Are you not afraid for your safety, Jasmine?”
Yasmeen didn’t bother correcting the common mistake on her name but sat there with the blood draining from her head. Would they think badly of her if she were to shove her head between her knees?
“Are you sure you are not mistaken, Selina? My Lawrence said Mr. Fane is very fair. He also said he is…what was the word he used?” She tapped an inch-long acrylic against her temple. “Ah, yes, deadly. Deadly but fair. What a funny combination.” She laughed and dabbed at her right nostril for perhaps the fiftieth time since they’d been introduced.
“Mr. Fane?” Selena said, frowning. “Oh, but I thought he was Hector Sala?”
“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”
They all looked up to see the man who’d stopped Lucian and Yasmeen in the atrium. He was looking at Yasmeen.
“I have been watching you look for an escape route.” He winked. “I thought I might help.”
Before she could tell him to go to hell, Sorin was at her side. “Come, Ms. Michaels.”
“Not yet, Arcos. I am speaking with Ms. Michaels. Keeping her company while Lucian is occupied.”
Sorin took her arm and brought her to her feet. “Lucian would like you at his side.”
“Then he shouldn’t have left her,” Hector commented in a firm voice as he reached for her wrist.
Sorin chopped it away hard enough to break it and stepped in front of her to look down at the man. “I will have that hand playing your colon like a flute if you attempt to touch her with it again.”
The girls behind them giggled as they got up and moved away. Mortified that this asshole was causing a scene, Yasmeen tried to see around Sorin’s broad back so she could get Lucian’s atten—
“Hector, Hector. Still crass enough to risk a public disturbance merely to humiliate yourself in front of another man’s property. I feel pity for your father.”
Like the idiot she was, Yasmeen silently moaned with a helpless feminine appreciation, swallowed a whimper of relief, and felt her panties grow wet all in the space of three seconds. She also inched to the side when Lucian’s back joined Sorin’s in front of her.
Her temples started to pound along with her heart. A security guard pushed his way out the door. She peered through to see a long deserted hallway. It closed. She could hear the men talking, and paid no attention when a couple of others in nice suits and ear pieces joined them. Hector, who’d been led to the side, was staring at her again. It felt as if millions of tiny spiders were crawling over her, and it only got worse when he smiled. Sorin was saying something to Lucian. Both of them were turned away from her. The door opened. A dealer in a pressed white shirt came out.
Barely able to breathe as the slave band around her throat grew tighter and tighter, Yasmeen quit thinking and darted the few steps over to slip through the closing panel. She ripped the choker off and stood there, her lungs locked, whimpering as she watched Lucian’s broad back disappear.
Just before the latch engaged, the door was pushed open again to allow two big bodies through. When it was slammed shut, it wasn’t her angry Romanian and his adorable meathead standing with her. It was Hector and one of his.
TWENTY-ONE
The moment Lucian saw his men drop position and shove by Sorin, he whipped around. Just before the security door slammed shut, he caught sight of Yasmeen looking up at Hector and one of his henchman. Didn’t matter why she was in a place she should not be, all Lucian could think was, finally, he could kill something.
A film of red cloaked his vision as he pointed for half their crew to go right while he, Sorin, and Spencer went left. They knew the layout of the casino well because it was Lucian’s. With any luck, Hector also knew where he was going. To the nearest exit.
Slamming out an unmarked door in the far corner, Lucian had to fight with Sorin to stay in the lead. “Get the fuck behind me,” he growled.
“Fuck you,” was his pain-in-the-ass’s response.
“You touch Hector; I’ll shoot you before you land one shot.”
Sorin chuckled. “Fine. I’ll take Rolph.”
“What’s happening here?” Spencer muttered in a strong Irish accent. “Are you two fighting over who gets who?”
“Yes. You get no one,” Lucian taunted, uncharacteristically participating in a conversation. He felt almost high because he knew what was coming. Something quick but satisfying. “You may call in the cleaning crew. They are waiting outside.” He elbowed Sorin out of the way again. “I get Sala. You get Rolph,” he confirmed once more to be sure it was understood.
Sorin grunted, and that’s how it went down when they rounded t
he corner and nearly slammed right into the trio they were stalking. Lucian tore Yasmeen away from Hector’s grip and shoved her into Spencer’s arms before snapping a hand out to grip his prey’s throat. He raised a foot and kicked it hard into Hector’s knee. The joint collapsed, but no crunch sounded over the pain-filled howl the pussy released. The warmth of blood coating the tips of his fingers barely registered as Lucian pinned his victim to the wall. He slipped his nine millimeter from his underarm holster, saw a clear shot out of the corner of his eye, and took it. Before even a slap could land, Sorin’s sparring partner went down with a hole in his temple.
“You do not touch what is mine,” Lucian murmured before placing the butt of his gun to Hector’s forehead and pulling the trigger again. The light went out in the eyes Hector shared with his father, a man who used to look down at Lucian and Markus as he walked out of their house, adjusting his clothes so he didn’t appear disheveled after his afternoon fuck.
Less than ten seconds. That was all it took for two lives to end.
He dropped the body and had just enough time to spat on them both before four men—the cleaners—came around the corner. He ignored them as he went to his pet. She had her hands cupped over her mouth and was whispering oh, my God over and over again. That wasn’t what captured his attention as Spencer handed him a damp cloth that smelled of alcohol. It was the choker hanging from his pet’s thumb. He stared between it and her bare neck as he cleaned the blood he’d felt splatter on his throat and jaw. As he wiped his hands of any traceable evidence, he watched how the diamonds on the tag glinted in the light.
“The car is out back,” Sorin murmured as he cleaned Lucian’s right ear.
Handing off the soiled cloth, and forcing a gentleness he didn’t feel, Lucian peeled Yasmeen’s hands from her face so he could kiss her on the mouth. “Forgive me for not taking the time to recommend turning your back. Just breathe. You will be fine in a moment.”
“I-I’m s-s-sorry. I shouldn’t h-have r-run.”
“Shh.” He hugged her close. “I should never have allowed you out of the castle. This is my fault.” He also shouldn’t have shared his thoughts on permanency. She wasn’t ready for that yet. “Do you see what happens when you leave my side?”
Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5) Page 22