Roark's Leading Lady [Soldiers of Passion 2] (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Dace Everan

  Laird shrugged. “I honestly can’t answer that. It’s past my level of expertise. As far as I know, she’s not on watch twenty-four-seven. Maybe some sort of monitors on her heart? Her brain waves, maybe.” he shrugged. At this point, it would all be guesses on his part. He had friends looking into it, keeping tabs on her to see if others were watching her, monitoring her in any way.

  Roark slumped back, staring at the book, plain black with large white writing. This couldn’t be happening. He knew the government did some crazy shit, but this! This wasn’t even morally right!

  “I’m told it’s not specifically on her, but what has been done to her. I have a friend with higher qualifications than I to get the information,” Laird shared, rising and crossing the room.

  He had looked through the booklet, and once Roark looked more closely, the man would need a drink. The resemblance of the person in this book was identical to Harley. It made him wonder if there was another Harley out there somewhere. Where was the original? The woman he had seen in these pages was a clone prototype. Was she genetically made with her parents’ DNA, or was there an original Harley before this sample showed up? Laird poured Roark a scotch, crossing back to him.

  Roark took the drink, swirling it in the shiny crystal. “She acts so normal,” he murmured.

  Laird chuckled. “No, she doesn’t. You and Dedrick had her in a position that she should have either submitted or safe-worded out. She did neither. She didn’t quietly submit, and you know it. She refused to safe-word it, and I honestly believe it was because you were of no serious harm to her.”

  Roark pondered the words. It was true. Had she been scared, she would have reacted the way she had the night before. He took a sip of the scotch, setting it to the side and opening the book. He cringed at the pictures of the child. “Is this just—”

  “Not sure, I’m thinking those are actual photos of her as a child. I was told this was just a book about how she might have been prepared. I couldn’t quite get my hands on the data about the before process.”

  Roark furrowed his brows. “Who would do this?” he uttered, flipping through. A prepubescent version of Harley, naked and posed in different positions. His stomach churned. They had checked her flexibility and skeletal structure, and he could only guess what else they had put her through.

  On the next page, she was older and developing, obviously, with notes on changes. How the skeletal frame was growing, and muscle growth. He narrowed his eyes. She didn’t have any reproductive organs? He flipped the page and looked at the grown version. This woman who resembled his Harley had a blank stare in her eyes. Beautiful eyes that he was so used to seeing twinkling with life. He clenched his teeth.

  “Did they drug her?” he asked, disgusted. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

  Laird shrugged his shoulder. “Could be all a hoax, Roark. I was told one thing. I know what our government is capable of. I have my own thoughts on the matter.”

  Roark grunted. He skimmed through the remaining pages that were filled with pictures of others. Men and women. His stomach churned at the photos of the failures. Disfigured, broken bodies laid out with notes beside each picture with what went wrong. He closed the book. He would find out the truth. He handed the book back to Laird and swallowed the rest of his drink. “Thank you, Laird,” he murmured, standing.

  Laird cleared his throat. “I’m having another benefit in a couple of weeks…I have made an invite to her parents. You will attend with Harley?” Not that he needed to ask. Roark wouldn’t give up on what was his, and Laird knew it.

  “Count on it.”

  Laird nodded. “Black-tie event,” he called as Roark strode toward the door.

  Roark raised a hand in acknowledgment.

  * * * *

  Harley stared at the man in her doorway. A smile crept across her lips, and she reached out, touching the little tiny tuft of a mohawk that Roark now sported. He grinned. “Thought you would like that, you cave woman,” he drawled, stepping closer.

  Harley grinned. “Wow, you clean up good.” she praised, stepping aside letting him pass.

  Roark glanced around the room eyes landing on the window to the fire escape. Thick curtains now draped the area. “Thank fuck, your neighbor is seriously fucking weird. You know he was sitting out there last night again?” he asked, pulling off his coat, hanging it, and heading to the couch.

  Harley watched him go. “Are you spying on my neighbor?” she asked.

  Roark chuckled, sprawling out on the couch. “Nope,” he replied, plucking up the remote for her television. “Come on, killer, surely you can afford a bigger flat screen than this! How am I supposed to watch the fights on such a tiny TV?” he whined, flipping through the channels.

  Harley sniffed, slamming the door, crossing the room, and plopping down on his stomach. He groaned as air gushed from his lungs. She grabbed up her remote and flicked through the channels until she hit one of those home improvement channels.

  Roark raised his eyebrows at her questioningly. “What are you making me watch?”

  Harley grunted. “You come here, you walk in and make yourself at home and take over my TV.” She turned to him. “You think you own me?” she asked.

  Roark grinned, taking hold of her shoulder and pulling her down until she was straddling him. He shifted until her pussy was flush to his erection. “Nope,” he answered simply.

  Harley exhaled, trying to shift away from him. “Then why do you insist on coming here and doing whatever you like?” she grumbled, her breath huffing into his face as she struggled against his grip on her. “Release me, Roark! This isn’t funny,” she grumbled.

  Roark chuckled. “Yeah it is. Stop moving, or you’re going to make me come in my pants, woman.”

  Harley went still, her eyes meeting his.

  He grinned. “There we go. I come here because I like being with you. Would you like me to stand around all awkward, trying to figure out what to do?”

  Harley shook her head. No, that would suck.

  Roark grinned. “Good, because I won’t do that. I refuse to feel all awkward when I come here. If you find it…uncomfortable that I come in here and feel at home, then you should tell me.” He caressed her jaw.

  Harley offered an unamused look, moving her face away from his touch. “I don’t want to have to watch or listen to sports all day.” She clarified.

  Roark nodded. “That I can do,” he assured, his hands lowering, holding her hips flush to his. “We could always go hang in your bedroom and find other things to amuse me,” he suggested.

  Harley laughed. “No thank you. You’re the biggest tease I have ever met. I’m still waiting—no, correction—done waiting for your dick in my cunt.” She grabbed his hands and shoved them away, then scrambled off of him.

  Roark grunted. “Not nice, Harley. I come over to snuggle, and you leave me hanging,” he whined.

  Harley scoffed. “Bullshit! What did you come over for, anyway? And don’t tell me to spend time with me.”

  Roark grinned. “Got me. Laird invited me to some formal thing and I need a date. Free on Saturday?”

  Harley shook her head. “Nope, not going to any formal. The last time I was supposed to go anywhere with you, you showed up late,” she reminded him.

  Roark nodded. “And you never asked me why,” he said, arguing on his behalf.

  Harley slumped back in her chair and stared at him. “Fine, why were you late?” she mumbled.

  Roark gave a half smile. “My sister was in the hospital…She needed some cash to get something done.”

  Harley rolled her eyes. “As if I’m going to believe that line of bull!” she uttered.

  Roark shrugged. “Believe what you want. I wouldn’t ditch you unless it was dire, woman,” he replied, his gaze clashing with hers.

  Harley stared at him. He was telling the truth. She had found out where he had been. GPS was awesome, and being the genius that she was made it easy to keep track of the bugger.

  C
hapter Eight

  Harley slipped on her trench and glanced at Roark. “You don’t have to come with me, Roark. I think I can handle dinner all on my own.” She watched as he slipped his thick arms into the sleeves of his bomber jacket. His spicy scent wafted around her.

  He dipped, kissing her on the lips. “Nope, wanna take a drive anyway. I miss driving my car.” He opened the door and held it for her, waiting for her to step through.

  “I’m just grabbing some takeout, man,” she replied, passing him.

  “Good, tell me it’s gonna be greasy and we can go take a cruise and eat greasy burgers.”

  Harley scrunched up her nose at him. “It’s actually tofu from the place down the street. Why the hell would I put toxins from those greasy burgers in my body?” she uttered.

  Roark grabbed up her hand, lacing his fingers through hers and tugging her closer. “Toxins…! I’ve seen you eat a burger, and don’t tell me there were no toxins in there,” he uttered, stopping at the elevator.

  Harley grunted. “It was homemade and vegetarian,” she replied, stepping in trying to get her hand out of his. She had never had a man hold her hand like some prepubescent girl boyfriend way. She looked at him, confusion clouding her thoughts.

  Roark caught the look. “What’s wrong?” he asked, worry creasing his brow.

  Harley shook her head. “Nothing.” She bit her lower lip as he pressed the button, then regarded her.

  “You okay, Harley?” he asked, concern in his voice.

  Harley nodded. “Yeah…okay, I’ll try greasy burgers and cruising. If I puke all over your car, your own fault,” she grumbled, leaning against his shoulder.

  How the hell did she not remember if she had a boyfriend in high school? Shit, she couldn’t remember much before the academy and meeting Layle. She peeked up at Roark. Maybe she would see if Layle would come home and have a few nights with her. Layle’s memory had always been the better between them. Surely, she had mentioned something to Layle about crushes and whatnot?

  Harley stared at the muscle car. It suited him. Midnight blue and chrome in all the right places. Her insides shivered. She liked this car. Roark unlocked the door and held it open for her. She nodded her thanks and slipped in, smiling at the overwhelming scent of him engulfing her.

  Roark glanced at her before shifting into gear. Something had touched a nerve, and she was thinking entirely too much. He reached out, clasping her cold hand in his. “Wanna talk, Harley?” he asked as he zipped through the traffic.

  Harley shook her head. “Nope, would really like if you men would back the fuck off and let me and Layle have our regular lives back,” she replied, annoyed that she whined so much these days.

  Roark chuckled. “You can’t blame that one on me, Harley. All Layle’s fault for getting mixed up with that man.”

  Harley looked at him. “Can I ask a question?” she murmured. She caught sight of his head nodding from the corner of her eye. “How does it work?”

  Roark frowned. “What?” he asked, slowing at a red light.

  “You and other men,” she murmured, her cheeks flushing.

  Roark grinned. “Maybe if you took Dedrick up on his offer, you would find out.”

  Harley shook her head. “You don’t have a boyfriend?”

  Roark chuckled. “I have a friend who I see,” he admitted, his gaze meeting hers then scanning the streets.

  Harley frowned. “You’re trying to sleep with me, and you have a man out there waiting for you?” she replied with a tint of anger. That was rude. It was heartbreaking to know he was that kind of guy, to leave someone waiting for him and be so nonchalant about it.

  Roark shook his head. “No, we agreed there would be no waiting for the other…would you like to meet him?”

  Harley shook her head. “It’s none of my business,” she mumbled. There was no way she was going to meet his lover! Oh God, how awkward would that be?

  Roark smiled. He knew where they were taking the cruise to now. Dan wouldn’t mind him showing up out of the blue.

  * * * *

  Harley stared at the house. She glanced at Roark, then back at the house. “Why are we here?” Was this where he lived? It couldn’t be. She could see lights on inside, which implied someone was home. Someone else lived here.

  “A friend of mine lives here. Thought maybe we could have a couple drinks and visit,” he replied, hopping out rounding the car and opening her door for her.

  Harley grunted. “I know how to get out of a car, Roark!” she growled. Shit, the chivalry thing was getting on her nerves.

  Roark chuckled, grasping her hand in his. “Come on, grumpy. Good thing I know Daniel’s a die-hard. If he wasn’t, I wouldn’t dare introduce you to him,” he replied.

  Harley glared at him. “Was that a shot at me, Roark?” Did he just imply he was ashamed to introduce her to his friends? Oh fuck, what in the hell was going on with her emotions? Who the hell cared what he or his friends thought of her?

  Roark grinned. “You’re acting like a big baby,” he drawled, knocking at the door, shortly greeted by a deep masculine “fuck off!” He chuckled, opening the door. “Thanks for the greeting, asshole!” he yelled back.

  Daniel strode around the corner, and Harley’s breath caught in her throat. “Tall and elegant” came to mind at first sight. His hair hung to his shoulders in waves of blond gloriousness. Light-green eyes wandered over the both of them, and his handsome, chiselled face lit. “Roark Hurt! When the fuck did you get back?”

  Roark grinned, pulling Harley with him as he opened his arms to hug the man. “Couple weeks back, been a little distracted,” he replied, stepping back and looking Dan over. “You’re looking good.”

  Dan scoffed. “Still too fucking skinny. Who’s the pretty lady?” he asked, attention all on Harley.

  Harley smiled holding out a hand. “Harley,” she introduced herself.

  Dan grinned, taking her hand, hauling her close, and squeezing the breath from her. “We don’t shake hands honey, we hug,” he demanded.

  Harley backed away and crowded closer to Roark. She wasn’t so sure if she liked this man. He was too touchy-feely for her liking.

  Dan grunted. “Well, if that wasn’t a rude shoot-down from the pretty,” he replied, turning on his heel.

  Roark chuckled, dragging Harley into the next room. “You’ll have to get use to that with this one Dan. She’s a tad bit of a grump,” Roark replied, taking a seat and pulling Harley onto his lap. Harley grunted, struggling to get off his lap. “Nope, stay here or you’re sitting in his,” he warned. Harley calmed and stared at the man. He was skinny and casual. Not as elegant as she had thought when she had first laid eyes on him. His jeans hung from his hips and a T-shirt hung from his shoulders, though his shoulders stretched the material nicely. She peeked at Roark. She was used to seeing men like Roark, full and meaty. This man was like one of those skinny model types. She frowned at his bare feet. She hated people who walked around barefoot. It unnerved her for some reason.

  “So you’ve been busy?” Roark asked.

  Dan chuckled. “Was over in Milan earlier this year, spent a bit of time in Australia.” He snorted. “Came home for the summer, refuse to do this shit in the summer. You know I would rather be on a boat catching some rays, swigging back some cold ones.”

  Roark chuckled. “Yeah…just came back from a jungle, fucking muggy in that shit.”

  Harley grunted. “Putting it lightly, if you ask me. Roark, it wasn’t just muggy—it was downright fucking sucky. Could you even breathe that one day?” she uttered.

  Roark chuckled shaking his head. “Was a bit hard wasn’t it?” he reminisced. He’d caught himself on numerous occasions that day, looking at her and the way sweat beaded on her naked arms, and the way it rolled slowly down her slender neck. Her curly hair had gotten even curlier, and she had bitched about it numerous times. He had dreamt about that hair, all damp from making love to her. It would look the same as that day. Plastered to her temples in t
ight curls, hanging in disarray about her, her face flushed, and she would be panting from coming hard. His cock hardened and he shifted.

  Harley laughed, her body easing in his arms. “Was fucking funny when that monkey jumped out at you and you screamed like a girl,” she teased.

  Roark pinched her. “I do not scream like a girl,” he replied.

  Dan chuckled, handing both a drink. Harley nodded her thanks, taking a whiff of the concoction. She scrunched up her nose at the sweet, fruity smell. She glanced at Roark. He took a sip of the drink and his face scrunched up in distaste. She giggled, setting the drink aside, thinking she had better not drink it.

  Dan chuckled. “Thought I would try. There’s beer in the fridge,” he drawled, his eyes on Harley as Roark set her aside and strode from the room. “So you’re Roark’s big boss girl, hey.” It was a simple statement. It was obvious the two had discussed her. Harley nodded. Dan grinned, relaxing back. “He’s talked about you before…nothing major. Has the biggest crush on you.” Harley furrowed her brow. Crushes were for kids, not grown adults.

  Roark laughed as he walked in, handing a cold beer to Harley. “Crush? You make me sound like some lovesick boy, Dan,” he uttered, taking his seat and hauling Harley back in his lap.

  Dan chuckled. “You are a lovesick boy. Never seen you paw a woman up like that before. Normally you shove her at me, then join in,” he drawled. His light-green eyes seemed to take in everything.

  Roark grinned. He tapped his bottle against Harley’s. “Harley’s special…mine,” he declared.

  Dan grinned. “Good for you…How does the infamous Harley feel about that?” he asked, his complete attention back on her.

  Harley scoffed. “The man needs to stop being a caveman. I am no one’s,” she declared haughtily, taking a swig of her beer.

  Dan grinned. “You are aware that, when Roark gets a thought in his head, it’s really hard to get it out?” Harley grunted. She didn’t give a shit. He had better get the thought out and the sooner the better, for all of them. Dan sighed, taking a sip of his drink. “So, no fun with this cute little hottie?” he probed.