“What are you talking about?”
Instead of answering, he took her by the upper arm and walked with her out to the living room and into the small kitchen. Grabbed a chair and shoved it at her. “Sit.”
She did. He reached into his pocket and pulled out handcuffs, used them to bind her hands behind her, around the back of the chair.
This was humiliating. Scary.
There was no way out. The one man who she thought believed her, replaced by the man who now looked at her with complete distrust.
Would he question her for hours, forcing her to try to remember anything and everything about Dale, a man she now realized she’d barely known?
He pulled her head back with a hand twisted in her hair, his face so close to hers. “Now’s your chance, Vivi; tell me the truth.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been telling you the truth.”
“We dusted your house for fingerprints. We found yours, of course, and your dad’s. And more.”
“Of course—my house was broken into,” she said. “You were the one who told me that.”
“Those men didn’t go into your refrigerator. Or your bathroom,” he said. “The fingerprints we found belonged to a man named Ace. One of DMH’s major players. His fingerprints were also on your headboard.”
Her cheeks heated with shame and anger. “If I’d literally been in bed with a member of DMH, I think I would’ve known.”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed her a picture on the screen. “Who’s this, Vivi?”
“That’s Dale.”
He smiled, but it was not a friendly smile at all. “This is Ace—that DMH major player I mentioned. So I guess you were in bed with a terrorist after all. The only thing left to find out is whether or not you knew it.”
She stared at the picture of Dale as everything came together in her mind. No way, no way, no freakin’ way. The man shunned cell phones and never checked his e-mails.
Dale Robbins noted technology. But this other man …
Dale, or Ace, or whoever the hell he was, had been the only other person inside her house since her father had died, till yesterday. The only one. Unless she’d been hacked, but she would’ve been able to detect that. What she wouldn’t have known was if someone had simply copied the program off her computer. “Dale—Ace—stole the program from me.”
“So, your boyfriend works for the group who’s rumored to have stolen your software. Or maybe stolen isn’t the right word? Maybe you offered it to them after your father died.”
“I didn’t.”
“Suppose I told you that we’ve got him in custody and he says you’re part of DMH.”
“He’s lying,” she said flatly. “If you’ve got him, that means you’re close to stopping DMH, and maybe this nightmare will end.”
“Unless DMH rescues you.”
She swallowed hard, tried to read him and failed. “I was just trying to do the right thing—I couldn’t pay InLine back, so I needed to fix my father’s program. I had no idea it was copied.”
Caleb leaned in predatorily, lowered his voice to a growl. “Your story about poor, little, innocent Vivienne is wearing thin.”
“Why would I sell a program to terrorists?”
“Because, in the end, maybe your father’s distrust of his own country made you vulnerable to DMH’s reach. Maybe Ace whispered things in your ear, convinced you to help him. Maybe the sex wasn’t really bad at all … maybe you liked it. Begged for it.”
“I didn’t.” Tears rose in her eyes; her throat was so tight it felt as though it was scalded. “I didn’t know who Dale was. I thought he was an archeology professor. We never talked about my father’s jobs, or mine. I never saw him near my computers. I never saw him do more with technology than check his phone messages.”
“I’m supposed to believe that story? No one’s that innocent.”
“I was. And I was lonely. You’re the first man I’ve been more than remotely interested in.”
He jerked back, his breath coming out in a hiss. “Don’t.”
“It’s true.” It was. And if she couldn’t convince him, what would happen to her?
What would happen to her anyway? And the joke was still on her, because there would be no one around who would care about that either.
He wanted to hear something that would confirm his suspicions about her. Wanted to get everything out of her, wring her dry, until she was slack and weeping. She would not give him what he wanted. He was looking for a confession—a weakness.
She would give him nothing. If he wanted to break the fragile strands of trust between them, he could do it with one harsh word. And he did—with too many for her to count. He knew her entire life story, in far more detail than she cared to remember, which reminded her that the government had indeed been following her family since her father’s firing.
“Please, I don’t want to do this,” she said, but Caleb didn’t let up for a long while. Questioned her about her early years, repeated facts about her life back to her to wear her down, trip her up, exhaust her mentally—about her in fifth grade, still wearing pigtails, and again when she was ten, and then twelve, when her father lost his job and her mother left … the memories rushing back to her with a startling clarity, as if her heart was ripping open.
She was so exposed, in more ways than one.
“In ninth grade, you had a chance to leave your father. To find something better, but you didn’t. Maybe you’ve got more conspiracy theorist in you than you care to admit.”
Ninth grade. She’d dyed her hair for the first time that year—pink stripes—and she’d gotten an immediate suspension and an order to dye it back to her blond color. Her mom was long gone, and her father remained at home working on the next big thing. He’d isolated himself, his unemployment had run out and he’d applied for welfare for them, which wasn’t nearly enough to cover expenses, but he refused to move.
Her face was wet. Despite her refusal to break down, her body had turned traitor, emotions overflowed, and when she opened her mouth, to her horror a sob escaped.
What was she guilty of? Would they go through all of this if she was innocent?
But she was. “You can’t blame me for my father’s choices. You can’t blame me for something Dad did—for who he was. You have to believe I had nothing to do with this. You have to believe me, Cael. You just have to. Please. I’m so tired of trying to go it alone, you have no idea.”
“And so you found a group to take you under their wing, to make you a part of their family.” He spat the last word, and she shook her head.
“No!”
“You’ve turned the FBI down twice—once right after your father died. The second time, two months ago.”
“Yes, because—”
“You don’t trust the government. Makes you a perfect fit for DMH.”
It did, for sure. Her skin crawled at the thought that she’d literally been in bed with a terrorist. “I am not part of DMH. Give me a lie detector test. Throw me in jail. My story won’t change.”
“Because you’re loyal.”
She laughed then, a sharp, biting sound. “I was once. I won’t make that mistake again—at least not easily. When I was fourteen, a social worker came by the house. The school had given her reports that my father refused to come in for parent-teacher conferences. I was failing out of school because my father was retreating deeper into his theories, his paranoia, leaving me to fend for myself. I was working a paper route until I was able to work in a small shop near our house, where the owner was willing to pay me under the table. I didn’t have time for school—I only knew that Dad was fading and I needed to take care of myself, and help him. That woman came into our house and acted like she knew exactly what I was feeling, said to me, Honey, I can make sure you get put in a good home—a neat, clean house where you have someone who cares about you.” She paused. “You asked why I stayed. It was because I was too loyal to leave him. Stupidly loyal. I
risked everything for someone who would never have done the same for me. And I won’t make that mistake again. Ever.”
It came out more fiercely than she intended, and it hurt to say it, to utter those words, to admit that the isolation that had taken hold of her father still had her in its grips. Her breathing was harsh and tears ran down her cheeks, but she was no longer sad. The anger had taken hold and if she’d been free from the handcuffs, she’d be kicking and punching and fighting for her life right now.
Caleb stared at her, his expression still unreadable. “If you’re fucking with me …”
“I know who I am, what I’ve done. There’s nothing you can do to me that’s going to make me tell you anything but the truth. And you’ve heard that already. I’m done proving myself to you. I don’t owe you anything.”
He was on her in seconds. “You damned right you owe me if you’re involved with DMH. They’re after my brother.”
“I have nothing to do with that. I would never …” Her voice broke. She didn’t want it to, wanted to stay strong, not weep like some shrinking violet. “If you don’t believe me, that would be the worst. I don’t care what everyone else thinks. I know how it looks. But I thought you were different. I thought …”
I thought you cared.
She closed her eyes to stop the tears, and when she opened them again, Cael was half kneeling in front of her.
“You’re here without authorization—my career is on the line for you, Vivi. Do you get that?”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
He dropped to his knees, stayed there for a long moment in which she felt as if her life as she knew it hung in the balance.
She didn’t want the old life back—and if the new one included jail, or worse …
Finally, he leaned forward, rested his face against her thighs, his breath warm.
His hands came up to cup her hips. And then he looked at her, his voice sounding as raw as hers when he said, “Goddammit, I believe you. I shouldn’t, but I do.”
Relief coursed through her body, replaced quickly by confusion when Cael didn’t release her.
Instead, his hand traced her breast—and she was aware of pushing against his hand, wanting more, not caring that she was still handcuffed, completely at his mercy.
It didn’t matter, especially not when his mouth captured hers and then pulled back a long moment later.
“Vivi.” His voice was thick, husky, unrecognizable from the man who’d been so in control before this. He was unraveling, taking her along for the ride. “I’m risking everything here.”
His hand trailed the enticing curve of a breast—she wasn’t big at all, but he looked at her breasts like they were perfect. Her nipples were taut through the thin towel and his hand sought the tender flesh inside the barrier.
When his fingers closed around a nipple, she started. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention, the slow savor of her body, and he’d be the one to make it all better for her, at least for tonight. And then he was pulling the towel open, exposing her. Her face flushed, but there was a swell of confidence upon seeing the desire, plain and clear, in his eyes.
His mouth sought a nipple, tugged it between his teeth, rasped it with his tongue, and she arched toward him, the handcuffs jangling as she did so.
The sound appeared to bring him back to earth. He pulled his face away and cursed roughly. Pulled the towel back around her even as she told him, “No. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop now. I’m risking everything too, Cael. Everything.”
He didn’t react, looked like he was made of stone, except she heard him suck in a harsh breath when she said, “I want you to take me. Right now.”
“Don’t you say that unless you mean it. I already warned you not to fuck with me.”
“I want to take it as far as we can go. Make me not scared.”
“I’m the one who made you scared in the first place. Christ, I just handcuffed you to a chair and accused you of horrible things.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“I noticed. Why is that? Because most people are.”
“How can I be scared of someone who saved my life, twice. Someone who looks at me the way you are right now.” She glanced down, and saw the erection straining his pants.
“Once we start …”
“I’m not going to want to stop,” she finished. “Please.”
Dale had stripped her of her virginity—of everything, she realized now. And after that, she shouldn’t want to trust anyone—ever. But Caleb, she felt safe with him now … and hot, and more than a little bit wicked. “There’s been no one for so long … there’s been no one ever like you.”
“And you still think you’re innocent?”
She nodded, because she was, in so many ways. “All I did was sleep with the wrong person. He used to tell me I was so innocent, he was afraid he’d scare me.”
“I’m going to scare you, Vivi,” Cael promised, his voice low and rough, his eyelids heavy. “And the last thing you’re going to be thinking about is your ex.”
He flung the towel to the floor, pushed her legs open as her face flushed, grew even more so when she realized what he was going to do.
His head lowered to her sex. The first lick from his tongue set her ablaze and she let out a keening cry, a sound she’d never heard herself make. She felt herself flush when Cael pulled back, demanded, “Tell me what you want, Vivi.”
God, she couldn’t … she knew, but saying it out loud … “Cael … please …”
“Please what? You want my tongue inside of you again, licking you until you scream?”
Her toes curled and her breath escaped in the form of a small gasp. It was all she could do to nod, to say, “Yes … I want that. I want … you.”
His mouth quirked to one side and he conceded, burying his face between her legs again, the unbearable pleasure intensifying as she was unable to stop him from doing what he wanted to her.
It was exactly what she’d asked for, and he’d been right—she was trembling. Dale had never done this—no man had—and when his tongue slipped inside her, over and over, she wasn’t sure she would be able to handle the loss of control.
She tried to move forward, but the restraints held her, bit into her wrists when she tugged. He was murmuring against her wet heat now, telling her how beautiful she was.
He wasn’t the least bit embarrassed. And she closed her eyes, let him splay her open more, jolted as his tongue danced along the tight nub of nerve endings until it was an exquisite torture, until the coil in her belly tightened …
Until she couldn’t stand it anymore, and then, just then, her body let go with a ferocity that shocked her. The climax tore through her, blindingly white hot, and she slumped back, unable to focus on anything but the pleasure she felt.
She was vaguely aware of being freed, of being carried. And then she was on the mattress with Caleb.
“Let me take care of you,” he urged, his body solid and unforgiving against hers.
She drew in a low, stuttered breath. All she could do was nod, because if this was what came from fear, she needed more of it.
Cael pinned her hands over her head as his cock rubbed her wet cleft. Watched Vivi as he moved deftly over her, her thighs spread by his, the flush of orgasm a fine dusting still on her skin.
He knew if he brushed his lips against her neck, he’d feel the nervous tick of her pulse beneath the creamy skin, and dammit, he needed to be put out of his misery.
He tangled his fingers in her hair, pulled her close as his lips sought hers. She sighed against his mouth, a soft flutter of pure contentment that cut straight to his heart, and he knew he was goddamned toast.
And he didn’t give a damn.
Right now, a part of her was using him to exorcise her boyfriend and her past—and most of him didn’t mind. But the sharp sting of jealousy told him he would need to erase all those memories from her mind—and quickly, long before this night was over.
He h
adn’t ever shared his bed with the ghosts of former lovers and didn’t expect to start now.
When he broke off the kiss, he felt her trembling under him—nerves, anticipation, the bliss from the orgasm fading as she realized he would make good on what he told her.
Her lips were swollen, bruised from his kisses, and he liked that, liked the thought that he’d marked her.
Pretend it’s her first time, treat her that way, his mind said, but his body insisted otherwise, wanted her with a primitive need that bordered on the edge of pain.
There would be no easing into this with her—he would take her with a fury that was threatening to scare him as well, the kind of fear that could drive a man wild.
And he wouldn’t be sorry for anything he did.
“Too late to change your mind,” he told her, enjoyed the stain of embarrassment on her cheeks, because it had been too long since a woman had been that pleased and innocent at the same time. Maybe never. “You’re all mine. Any way I want you.”
“How … do you want me?” she asked hesitantly.
“Do you really want to know? Or do you just want me to show you?” he asked, stroked his tongue over one nipple and then the other, enjoying the way her body surged up toward him.
Right now he wanted action, not words, and so her breathy “Show me” made him curl his fists and bite back the urge to take her that instant.
He’d already pushed aside any thoughts of direct orders, but not danger. No, the woman spread before him was far more dangerous than any firefight or tango he’d encountered, and the fear burned in his belly, made him burn all over with a desire he recognized and invited.
You’re letting a woman lead you around by your dick.
And it felt damned good.
She was watching him intently. “I won’t betray you, Cael. I couldn’t. You saved my life. The only way I can repay that is with my loyalty.”
Giving that to him meant more than giving him her body—he knew that, and he treated it with the reverence it deserved.
“I want you to know how good fucking feels … how I can make you fly.” He licked a path down to a taut nipple, her skin a mix of honey and spice under his tongue.
Promises in the Dark Page 20