by Em Petrova
She nodded with so much enthusiasm and enough pink in her cheeks to convince the Lord Almighty that she was speaking the truth. “You get the horse. I’ll grab more rope.”
Thornburne grunted, his rough features blasé, at least until Lauralee hurried across the stable and grabbed a coil of rope hanging on the wall.
Boone noted the sway of her hips and the fact she still wore the uniform. She probably couldn’t get out of it alone, but that was to his benefit, especially when it rode up a little as she went onto tiptoe to reach the rope.
When she returned to his side and held out the rope to him, he took it with a drawled, “Thank you, honey.”
She smiled up into his eyes. “No problem, lover.”
His cock leaped at the endearment. Why did Thornburne have to stick his ugly honker into Boone’s business? He’d been waiting for a chance to get Lauralee alone in the stable and show her a few new positions, and the guard just went and ruined his chance.
With a sigh, he stared down at the guy. “Did you overhear my conversation?”
Thornburne wasn’t a good liar—his eyes said yes, he heard every word on Boone’s end of the call, but he shook his head.
“I know you did, asshole. I also know that you sent that guard into the corridor after my wife.”
Lauralee gasped.
Boone jerked his leg back and aimed a kick at the guy’s midsection. He groaned and tried to flop onto his side like a beetle. “Didn’t you? You sent that guy in there to harass my wife. Why? Did Black give the order?”
Lauralee stumbled a few steps away, her fingertips pressed into her lips as if to hold back a scream.
The man didn’t make a sound behind the gag, so Boone showed him how a Wynton got things done by kicking him again, this time half-lifting him off the floor with his boot.
“Did you send that guy to intercept my wife?” The minute he’d seen the footage Thornburne was either too stupid to delete or too reckless to care if Boone saw or not, he’d reached a level of fury to end all days. Thornburne and that guard had stood whispering and then seconds later, the guy entered that hall and waited for Lauralee to leave Isadora’s room.
“If I take off this gag, are you gonna tell me what I need to know?” he demanded.
Thornburne remained silent.
“That’s what I thought. Watch him, honey, while I ready the horse.” Without a glance spared for the asshole who was in Black’s pocket, Boone strode from the stable. The first horse he saw was stocky enough to drag a man for miles before even getting winded—just what he needed.
He led the horse into the stable, saddled it with quick precision and then stretched the rope between Thornburne and the horse. Lauralee looked on while he created an elaborate knot that was sure to hold tight.
When he met her gaze, he saw the one thing that had made her agree to this mission—she hated any man who stepped on a woman. She fought it all the time in a man’s line of work, and Thornburne had sent someone to attack her physically. When Boone studied her expression, he read that a line had been crossed.
And she was furious.
So was he.
“Last chance, you sack o’ shit. You wanna say anything before you’re crying out for your momma after I give you the road rash of your life?”
Thornburne pressed his lips into a stiff line.
Boone slid his glance to Lauralee and back. “Suit yourself.”
He climbed into the saddle and slapped the horse’s flank, sending him running out the doors of the stable and watched dispassionately as Thornburne was dragged behind. The man bumped out the door and into the yard, grunting as he hit rough ground.
Lauralee ran out to watch as Boone hauled the guard a dozen feet before a muffled yell came from the man.
Pulling on the reins, Boone brought the gelding to a halt and twisted to look back at Thornburne. “You wanna talk now?”
Thornburne rolled his head around, which could pass either for a nod or shake of his head.
“What’s he sayin’?” Boone called to Lauralee.
She bent over Thornburne and then straightened. “He says yes.”
He swung off the horse and his boots kicked up a cloud of dust as he walked back to the bastard who’d ordered that thug to attack Boone’s wife. That knowledge was enough reason for Boone to beat him senseless, but he’d also overheard too much of his phone call.
Boone strode up to him and crouched to look at him. His cheek was bleeding from a scrape he’d received on the ground. He plucked his handkerchief from Thornburne’s mouth.
“You admit that you sent that guard to attack my wife?”
“Y-yes.”
“And you’re gonna stay quiet about what you heard me say on the phone?”
He bobbed his head.
“Damn straight you won’t talk, because we’re gonna make sure you don’t.” Boone whipped out a knife. Lauralee’s gasp turned to a sigh of relief when he severed the rope between horse and man.
“What are—”
Boone cut off his words by stuffing the cloth back into his mouth. “Blew my nose on that earlier too. Forgot to tell ya.”
Lauralee giggled.
Boone tossed her a look as he grabbed Thornburne by the rope binding his ankles and wrists into one tight knot and sliced through the bonds on his feet. “Don’t worry—I’ll be sure to tie the rope nice and tight again once you reach our destination.”
He hauled the guy to his feet and forced him to walk across the yard to an outbuilding. It contained a few garden tools and he’d rarely seen anybody enter the place, in person or on the camera footage. He paused to open the door.
Thornburne stopped in his tracks.
Boone shoved him in the back, pitching him inside. While he was down, Boone propped him up against the wall and bound his ankles with several loops around and through the interworked knot.
“You picked the wrong guy to champion. Not even Black can help you now.” Boone crouched to dig Thornburne’s phone from his pocket. He held it out to Lauralee, who took it. “Check that out, honey. Then destroy it.”
“I will.” Her response was so chipper that Boone had to ask if this was an act of bravado put on for Thornburne’s benefit or if she really was happy to do it.
“Someone should find ya sooner or later. By then, we’ll be long gone. Hope ya don’t have to take a piss.” Boone caught Lauralee by the hand and led her out of the shed.
She wrapped her fingers tightly around his as she hurried to keep up with him. Her hand tremored, and he pulled her to a stop around the corner of the stable. One look at her face revealed fear in the depths of her gray eyes, and her freckles stood out more, indicating she was paler than usual.
“C’mere.” His rough command rumbled from him as he drew her into his arms.
She lay her head on his chest, and a full shiver worked from her nape to her knees. “I’m scared.”
He wrapped his arms around her tighter. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“But can you keep yourself safe?” She tilted her head to look into his eyes.
“Yes. Mathias is on his way, along with Landon, and they’re going to help us get the wife—and you—out.”
“That’s what scares me most—you’ll be with Black. When he returns and finds she’s missing…”
“Black and I leave at oh-seven hundred. The minute we take off, the guys will rush in and find you. When they arrive, they’re going after her, even if it means hogtying the cook and half the maids. Do you know where the key is kept?”
She nodded. “The cook keeps the keys on a big ring clipped to her apron.”
“Easy enough.”
“And if I can’t get the key?” Her voice quavered.
“Then we hook the truck up to the window bars and enter by force.”
“Do you actually plan on blowing things up?” She searched his face.
“Thought I might have to blast a grave into the dirt for Thornburne’s body.”
“Ugh—did he re
ally send that guy after me? And why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t see it until a little while ago when I was deleting footage. I’ve never felt so goddamn angry in my life.” That fury flooded in again, and he focused on his breathing to calm himself.
She smoothed her palm down his chest as if soothing a beast threatening to burst out of him. “What will happen to Thornburne?”
“I’ll check on him during the night and make sure he doesn’t die. Can’t have that stain on my soul. I’ll let someone know where to find the asshole after we’re safely away.” He studied her beautiful face. “God, I wish I could get you safely away before this all goes down.”
She shook her head. “I won’t leave until I see Isadora walk out that door.”
They both turned to look toward the big ranch house.
“On the outside, it looks so pretty,” she said softly.
“Yeah, and it’s full of darkness. The fact that all the staff knows Black keeps his wife locked up, yet nobody attempts to help her and they continue to keep his secret, makes me think more about blowing the place sky-high on the way out.”
“You can’t do that, Boone.”
“I know.” He cupped her cheek. “As long as I get you safe, it’s all that matters to me.”
“What about doing your job? Shouldn’t that come first?”
He searched her eyes, his heart galloping with love for this woman who’d become his wife under false pretenses.
He stroked the pad of his thumb over her lips. “Used to come first. That changed the minute you said I do.”
Chapter Eleven
At one time, Lauralee thought the scariest moment in her life had been the orgy incident. Or another time she hadn’t told Boone about when her seatbelt malfunctioned on a a tilt-a-whirl ride. The belt hadn’t snapped in all the way, and before she knew it, she was flung forward, hanging on for dear life while her father threw his arm across her, locking her in place.
This mission was the amusement park incident on steroids and packing a hell of a lot of heat.
Mathias had rounded up two of the WEST Protection team and arrived in the darkest hours of night. When she spotted Boone’s other cousin Landon and his youngest brother Noah, an unexpected but welcome bonus, emerging from the shadows, her heart leaped into her throat and sat there, thumping so hard she didn’t know if she’d survive it.
In seconds, the team received orders from Boone then faded into the landscape again. All the while, she could only hope that she’d done her part and correctly disabled the camera system that would pick up their presence.
After that, she didn’t think she’d ever sleep, but Boone had curled around her and stroked her hair until she drifted off for several hours. When dawn began to lighten the sky, he woke her by climbing out of bed.
Wide awake and alert, she watched him ready himself for a day out with Black. She crunched her knees to her chest and stared at his handsome face and rippling muscles as he buttoned his shirt and fastened his belt.
“You’re sure you can’t stay here?”
He paused midbutton and focused on her. “I wish to hell I could take you. After the incident with Thornburne, I was called into Black’s office. I was crapping myself, thinking he’d found out somehow. But no, he only wanted to hash out the itinerary. I mentioned to Black that I’d like you to come along, but he didn’t even let me finish the sentence.”
She nodded. Which was worse—being trapped with Black or remaining here, trusting her life to the WEST Protection team? Both held unseen dangers. Black claimed to be under fire, and last night Boone learned it was a group calling themselves the Allied Brotherhood. She hadn’t gotten a chance to research the group, but she could guess at the terroristic acts a group by that name would be responsible for.
Boone finished buttoning his shirt and added the leather gun halter around his chest.
Looking at him, her heart overflowed with love and affection. If anything happened to him…
She couldn’t think about that now. Not when they were so close to ending this.
And then what? Go back to working in the office, acting as though she didn’t love Boone Wynton with all her heart? She didn’t have a clue how it all happened, only that it had.
“Boone.”
He slipped his phone into his pocket and turned to her again. Whatever he saw on her face had him crossing the bedroom they shared to kneel before her. He cupped her face in his hands and brought his lips to the spot between her brows. A shiver coursed through her.
“It’s gonna be all right, honey. I know there’s a lot of gears working independently here, but trust me when I tell you, each one works with the others.”
She nodded, closing her eyes at the feel of him pressing another kiss to her forehead. “It’s just that…what happens after it’s over?”
He drew back, a gleam playing in his amber eyes. “We never got around to talking about that, did—”
The door burst open and slammed against the inner wall. He leaped to his feet, weapon in hand and trained on the opening, where Peter Black stood, tall and imposing, chest heaving.
Lauralee jumped up, and Boone swept out his arm, shoving her behind him. She spotted the knife in his belt and grabbed it. The handle was warm from being tucked next to his skin, and it gave her strength as she waited for…for what?
“You,” Black snarled. “I know it was you who bypassed footage on that camera. I trusted you.”
In front of her vision, Boone’s spine tightened one muscle at a time, like bullets clicking into chambers.
From behind his big body, she heard Black take a step but couldn’t see the man. Not knowing what was to come scared the life out of her. Her palms were sweating and her pulse, stuttering.
“I doubt you know what’s going on, Black.” Boone’s tone was raw and gritty.
“I know who you work for, Wynton. You think I’m stupid? I have enough money that every man on Earth wants to be in my pocket. If I want to know something, people trip over themselves to tell me. And you, you son of a bitch, are going to pay for lying to me!”
It happened in a blur, but Lauralee landed hard on her backside on the other side of the bed. She gripped the knife in her fist—thank God she hadn’t fallen on it when Boone threw her out of the way.
Though Boone was in possession of a weapon, she knew he wouldn’t reach for it first. He’d try to fight his way out with fists and wits first.
A grunt sounded, and then a growl. One came from Boone and the other Black. She chanced a peek over the edge of the mattress, but they were at it hammer and tongs, throwing punches. Black’s fist glanced off Boone’s back, in the area of his kidney, and she cried out.
“Stay down!” Boone commanded her, and she ducked her head behind the mattress again. How could she help? If Black had a weapon—and she had no reason to believe otherwise—he could pull the trigger and that would be the end of the struggle.
A vision of Boone lying in a pool of blood brought stinging tears to her eyes, and she battled them back. She had to keep a clear head. Just like when she feared she’d fall out of the tilt-a-whirl and her father, by some miracle, managed to hold on to her. She had to trust in Boone’s ability.
He was stronger than most men. Skilled in fighting. Black could not—would not—best him.
Her husband, both in name and in heart. Dammit, these rings meant something to her, no matter the reason for him placing them on her finger.
Another few fist thuds, and someone hit the ground. She held her breath, wanting so bad to peek out.
“Why don’t you tell me why you keep your wife locked in that room, Black?” Boone ground out.
“Why don’t you tell me how you found out about her?”
“Did your last wife run out on you? Find some better dick right here under your nose?”
Oh God, Boone! Don’t taunt him!
Another fist smashing against bone caused her stomach to turn over. She swallowed the bile shooting up her thr
oat.
“She betrayed me, goddammit. Nobody else will ever do that to me again. And nobody will touch my…” Black’s words cut off, and she wondered if Boone had his hands around the man’s throat, before she heard his garbled, “fortune!”
She threw a wild look over the bed. The men were locked in a struggle, and she had no way of helping. If she jumped into the fray with the knife, she had as good a chance of cutting herself or Boone as she did Black.
Throwing a look at the door still hanging open, she made a choice.
Lauralee scrambled to her feet and ran for it, through the servant’s hallway and toward the kitchen. She could only pray the cook was already up and hard at work fixing breakfast.
When she burst into the kitchen and gazed around, relief hit. She ran up to the cook, who stared at her as if she was looking at a ghost.
“Give me your keys!” Lauralee demanded.
When she didn’t respond and shot a look at the door as if to bring in backup, Lauralee whipped out Boone’s knife. The lethal tip gleamed in the kitchen lights.
The woman’s eyes widened, and she quickly dropped her hands to the apron around her waist and tugged off the entire ring of about ten keys. She thrust them at Lauralee.
She grabbed them and took off running out of the kitchen, blasting around corners to reach Isadora’s room. As she ran, she fumbled through the keyring and located the correct one. With it clamped tight in her fist, she endured the bite of the edges cutting into her palm.
Where were the guys from WEST? Were they anywhere nearby to help her get Isadora out? What if Black’s thuggish guards stopped them?
She couldn’t think of that now—this was her one chance, and the reason she’d agreed to the charade of becoming Mrs. Boone Wynton.
After the final corner, she looked around wildly. The hall was empty, and she rushed to Isadora’s room and stuffed the key into the lock.
A hand reached around her body and squeezed down on hers, crushing her fingers against the metal doorknob she held on to.
She cried out and tried to yank her hand free, but a man banded his arm around her waist, yanked her off her feet and slammed her against the wall. Her face bounced on the plaster. Bells rang in her head and stars exploded behind her vision. For a moment, she thought she’d black out, but slowly the wall came into focus again.