His Wicked Love

by Anya Summers

  “Finally, a client with some goddamn sense. I can have those drawn up by the start of next week and will contact her attorney to hammer out the last of the details,” Kent said.

  “Thanks for that.”

  “You and Cole owe me a day out on the lake,” Kent said.

  “We’ll set up a day soon, before winter sets in. Take the boat out and see what we can catch.”

  “Good deal. I’ll be in touch as soon as everything is finalized for you to sign,” Kent murmured and disconnected the call.

  That was something at least.

  Cole strode in, slamming the door behind him, obviously incensed.

  “Really, Mason? Did you have to go and fuck things up with Emily? And fail to tell me about it before my three-night fishing trip? For fuck’s sake, what did you do?” he snapped, taking a seat across from him.

  “I’m working on it. We had a fight. Couples do it all the time. It’s no cause for concern,” Mason said, although he was still working on locating her and she wasn’t answering her phone when he called. He had no idea where to even look for her, or whether she had even stayed in Jackson. For all he knew, she’d high-tailed it back to Los Angeles. If that was the case, he would hunt her down and haul her ass back here. Now that the legalities with Claire were wrapping up, he could take the time off to fetch her back.

  “Oh, really? You think there’s nothing to get upset about? I just had lunch with Spencer. Apparently, Emily went to see him this past Sunday about a job and place to live. She’s working at the Teton Cowboy as a line cook. And moved in with Spencer until she can find a place.”

  “What?” Mason asked. At least she was here. Why hadn’t Spencer contacted him and let him know?

  “You didn’t know?” Cole asked.

  “No. We had a fight. Claire was here after the Oktoberfest, sitting on our front porch like she’d owned the damn place. Emily found out about Claire and me before I had a chance to explain.”

  Cole cocked his head. “You hadn’t told her about Claire yet? You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

  “That’s beside the point. The point is, we had a fight and I will fix it. We’ve been a little busy this week, what with the extra tours, and then this shit with Claire coming to a close.”

  “So it’s finished then, with Claire?”

  “More or less. I just spoke to Kent. Her attorney made a deal where she doesn’t serve more than house arrest as long as the restitution is paid in full at the time of sentencing in one lump sum. I agreed that we were fine with that. Kent’s going to add a few things to the agreement they want us to sign which will basically say we won’t go after her for monetary civil damages and the like. I want to make sure she never sets another foot on our property and can’t talk about the lodge, its inhabitants, or even the club. I realize that the club has an NDA clause, and will get Spencer up to speed once this is all finalized.”

  “I agree on the legal aspect. It will be nice to have that money back in the business accounts,” Cole replied thoughtfully.

  “It will. Especially since we changed everything over to new accounts, with new logins and passwords, so she can’t get her grubby fingers on another cent.”

  “As for Emily, you’re a fucking idiot,” Cole said.

  “Say that one more time and you can sleep in the fucking stables,” Mason said.

  “Mason, you’ve always had it easy where women are concerned. And until she came along, you never were serious about one. I’ve seen the way you two are together. Don’t throw it all away because you’re stupid. You should have told her about Claire. I don’t know why you would have kept what she did to you a secret.”

  Mason rubbed a hand over his face and looked at his brother. “I messed up. It’s not been easy knowing I let you down, let our parents down by my actions. All the people who work for us count on me to do the right thing by them, and because I thought with my dick instead of my head, I failed them.”

  Cole rolled his eyes. “You always were one for theatrics. So Claire screwed you over, boo-freaking-hoo. You’re fucking up the best thing to ever happen to you because of her. I may not have been on board with you and Emily being an item at the beginning, but I watched you with her. You forget, I know you better than anyone. I’ve never seen you that way with another woman. So fix it.”

  “You’re one to talk. You haven’t been serious about anyone since Lana,” Mason snapped, even though his brother was one hundred percent correct. He’d managed to screw up the best thing that had ever happened to him.

  Cole’s gaze narrowed and his face turned to stone. Then he bit out, “At least I had the courage to put my neck on the line and loved her. I’ve had the love of my life. There won’t be another. And you’re changing the subject. Stop deflecting, this isn’t about me, but you and Emily. No matter what, you need to convince her to come back and be our chef. She’s fucking brilliant in the kitchen.”

  “I don’t know how,” Mason replied, feeling more than a little defeated.

  Cole rolled his eyes. “You’re a fucking Master. Start acting like one. And you might want to, I don’t know, apologize for being a moron. I know it chafes the pride a bit, but when you look into the future, do you want one with her in it, or not?”

  Mason leaned back in his seat. Cole was right. As usual. On every account, except one. Cole was wrong about Lana being his one and only—but he’d leave that alone for now.

  “I will take care of it. Even if I can’t fix my personal relationship with her, I will see that she comes back as chef of the Elkhorn.”

  “Give her a higher stake in the restaurant,” Cole offered with a casual shrug.

  “What?” Mason replied, certain he hadn’t heard right.

  “She originally asked for a partnership, split fifty-fifty with us. I say give her that. I know we’d want to do it all legally so she can’t sell her shares back to anyone but us. Kent is already fixing up the Claire thing. May as well have him draw up a partnership agreement too.”

  Rubbing his chin, Mason turned it over in his mind. With resolution of the legal woes from Claire in sight, they would be back in the black again and they could take the hit to their finances. And, knowing Emily as he did now, if she was given free rein, she’d make the place sparkle. She was intelligent and had a sound head for the business side of things, to boot.

  “If you’re on board with that, I’ll call Kent back and get the arrangements made,” Mason said, still wondering how he was going to approach Emily.

  Cole was correct. He was a Master and he’d not been acting like it.

  After Cole left the office, Mason contacted Kent about the partnership agreement with Emily. It was a move in the right direction. He had a few other things he needed to put into place if he was going to win her back. She still wasn’t answering his calls so he did the next best thing. He called Spencer.

  “I was wondering when I was going to hear from you,” Spencer said.

  “You should have called me the moment she came to you,” Mason growled.

  “She asked me not to. She’s cried over you, a lot. Just thought you should know.”

  “And is she crying on your shoulder?”

  Sounding more than a little exasperated, Spencer replied, “Dude, she’s not with me. I’d never touch her and you know it, so get your fucking panties out of the twist they’re in. She came to me, asked for a job and help finding a place to live. I did both. It’s what I would do for any sub in need.”

  Mason rubbed a hand over his face. Spencer was a good guy. He never should have blasted him. But where Emily was concerned, he was downright possessive. He said, “Tell her to go to the club tonight.”

  “That I can do.” Spencer chuckled.

  “Thanks for looking out for her, Spencer.”

  “It’s what I’m here for.”

  Mason disconnected the call, then went to work on the rest of the preparations for tonight. Before the night was over, Emily would be back at the lodge. The only question t
hat remained was whether he could convince her to forgive him.

  Chapter 27

  That afternoon, Spencer had stopped in the kitchens at the Teton Cowboy and requested that Emily attend the club that evening. He said it would be good for her and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  In deference to him, for all the help he’d provided her in her time of need, she couldn’t refuse him. Even if Cuffs & Spurs was the last place she wanted to go. And she realized the irony of the fact that she lived two stories above the club. That little tidbit wasn’t lost on her.

  And going to the club would probably be better than what she’d originally had planned, which was gorging herself on Ho Hos until the pain in her chest subsided or she ran out, whichever happened first.

  So, to be a good little club member, Emily went. She even adorned herself in the black leather mini-dress that Spencer had procured and left out for her in his kitchen with a note that she was to wear it.

  She didn’t want to be here. Had avoided coming to the club because everywhere she looked, she saw Mason. It was like a knife through her chest. And dealing with the pain, with the loss, was the last thing she wanted. Emily was avoiding her feelings like a dieter avoiding the scales.

  She sat at the bar, sipping on a Mai Tai and contemplating the dismal state of her life. Her mother had called, again. It was like she could sniff out when Emily’s life imploded upon itself. She’d offered Emily a Mercedes this time if she finally gave up her ‘silly little quest’ to cook for other people.

  She sensed movement as someone slid into the seat beside her. Emily grimaced. She wasn’t fit company. As much as she didn’t want to disregard Spencer’s request, she wasn’t in the mood for this place.

  It hurt to be here. She was adrift in a sea of devastating agony, holding on with all her might to keep from drowning.

  She glanced over. Her heart tumbled over in her chest.

  Mason.

  She drank in the sight of him, still so devastatingly handsome that he took her breath away. He’d not shaved in a few days and dark stubble lined his jaw. His lips, the ones that had brought her such pleasure, were drawn in a compressed line. But it was the heat in his gaze as he studied her that made her tremble.

  “Emily. We need to talk,” he said, his eyes searching hers.

  She wondered what he saw. That she loved him. That her heart felt like it had been wrenched from her chest. That she hadn’t been able to breathe without him near. She hated being so weak. Despised that she wanted to cave in and turn to him. But to what end? She didn’t know if she could trust him, not after the secret he’d kept from her.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Please go away, Mason,” she begged him quietly, proud of herself that her voice didn’t waver.

  “No. You owe me the chance to explain,” he demanded, reaching for her.

  She flinched. Anger clawed at her chest. Owed him? That was how he was going to play it? “I don’t owe you shit.” She slid off her saddle seat. “Just stay away from me, Mason.”

  Spencer was at the end of the bar as she passed. She said, “I just can’t, Spencer. I’m sorry.”

  She strode past him and took a right down the hall, hurried past the locker rooms to the elevator and rode it up to Spencer’s place. The only way you could ride up the elevator was with a code to get in, which meant the only person who could follow her up and gain entrance was Spencer.

  She entered the living room and paced, unsure what she should do. The sob that had been lodged in her chest finally broke free. She’d had everything she had ever wanted within her grasp and then lost it all before she knew what happened. Emily slid to the floor in the center of the living room, overcome with her grief.

  She was startled when arms lifted her up. She raised her head, expecting Spencer. Instead of Spencer’s black gaze, she stared into Mason’s molten caramel depths. His scent surrounded her and, if anything, that made the pain more fierce.

  “Mason? Go away. Please.” She tried to hide her face from him.

  But he didn’t listen to her pleas. He carried her over to the nearby black leather couch and sat with her on his lap. His hands gently stroked over her back. Her body rejoiced at the feel of him.

  “Em, look at me, please. You’re breaking my heart, love. Look at me,” he commanded softly.

  Knowing she didn’t have a choice, humiliation filled her. She lifted her face.

  “I love you, Em. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you that Claire and I had been an item. It was nothing serious. She meant nothing to me. It was my pride more than anything that kept me from telling you about us. And I didn’t want you to think you were taking her place in my affections.”

  Emily’s heart stuttered in her chest. Tears clouded her vision. “You love me?”

  He gently cupped her face between both his hands. “More than life itself. My world doesn’t work without you in it. And I’m not talking about the lodge or the restaurant. It’s having you there at home in the evening when we’re both done with work, having you sleep beside me each night and waking up with you in the morning, the way you aren’t afraid to challenge me, and are right more often than not. I love you so fucking much. I don’t just want a night, or a temporary term as your Dom. I want forever with you. Marry me, Em. I can’t promise you that life will always be easy and smooth, but I can promise I will love you until my last breath.”

  Any resistance she had evaporated. He caught her tears with his thumbs. And his love was there, blazing in his tender gaze.

  “I love you, Mason. So much, it terrified me. That, when I heard the full story, I freaked. No one has ever gotten me the way you do. And it hurt to think I was nothing more than a placeholder,” she murmured, her hands on his chest.

  “I’m so fucking sorry. I never meant to hurt you that way. You’re not a damn placeholder for anyone.”

  Warmth suffused her and she smiled. “I know that now. Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  “Yeah? You sure? Because once it’s official, I’m never letting you go again,” Mason said.

  “I am,” she replied.

  “Thank God,” Mason growled and closed the short distance between them. Claiming her mouth with his, he kissed her brainless in under ten seconds flat, showing her with more than words that he loved her. She moaned into him. It had only been a week since she’d tasted him and had his lips on hers, but it had felt like eons.

  She was greedy for him. She needed him. Emily shifted on his lap until she straddled him. She kissed him back with all the pent-up emotions that she’d bottled in her heart. Her hands slid up his chest to his neck and she knocked his hat off, threading her fingers into his hair to keep his mouth on hers. She loved his mouth.

  He caressed her back and gripped her butt. Then his hand snaked up under her skirt. At the feel of his palm against her flesh, she mewled into his mouth.

  And then someone cleared their throat. Rather loudly.

  Emily lifted her head. She and Mason glanced over to find Spencer, consternation stamped across his features. “I’m just here to get something for the club. Remember my rules: keep it to your bedroom.”

  “He’s right. Sorry, Spencer. We can move it down the hall,” Mason said, stroking a gentle hand over her back.

  “Actually, take me home, Mason,” Emily said.

  A smile spread over his face. “I thought you’d never ask. Let’s pack your things.”

  “I never unpacked them,” she confessed and heat rushed into her cheeks at the admission.

  “Is that right?” Mason gave her a lopsided grin, his eyes glimmering with amusement and love. So much love, it humbled her.

  She shrugged and climbed off his lap, shooting Spencer a glance. The man was hiding his grin, but she could tell by the gleam in his gaze that he was pleased with the development. “Thank you, Spencer, for everything. But I quit.”

  “I’m here if you need anything,” Spencer said. “Mason, I’ll see you at poker on Sunday.”

  “Thanks,
Spencer,” Mason replied.

  Spencer nodded and strode past them. Then Emily went to her room with Mason on her heels. She hadn’t lied about not unpacking. It had been silly of her, but then again, in her heart of hearts, she had believed they were destined—fated, even. Because no one had ever touched her, moved her the way Mason did. Other than needing to grab her toiletry items from the bathroom, she was ready.

  He grabbed her suitcases as she hefted her small leather satchel. “You have your knives?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Good. Let’s get you home.”

  “I like the sound of that.” And oh, did she ever. Mason helped her cart her suitcases down to her car, then had her follow him in his truck back to the lodge and his house. He helped her carry her things inside. But before she could take them upstairs, he stopped her.

  “I have something for you. Couple of things, actually,” he said, towing her into the kitchen.

  On the table was a manila file that he picked up and handed to her. She took it from him, wondering what he was up to. “What is this?”

  “Just open it,” he said, a small smile playing over his lips.

  She flipped the file open and began reading the contents. Her heart thumped. Tears pricked her eyes. She lifted her gaze to his. “Are you sure about this?”

  “One hundred percent. There are stipulations, like your percentage can only be sold back to the lodge, that type of thing. But yes, that will make us full partners in the restaurant.”

  “And Cole’s okay with this? When I said fifty percent, that was during negotiations. I never thought or intended to get it.”

  He shrugged. “I promised you full autonomy, didn’t I? This just makes it official. Without you, this place wouldn’t have survived. Just like I won’t survive without you in my life and in my bed.”