1001 Dark Nights Short Story Anthology 2020

by Fiona Archer

  “Fine,” I say, but even I don’t believe it, and when I reach for the water, I knock the bottle to the floor. “Shit.”

  “You need a proper meal, topolina.” Damian strides to the closet and withdraws a luxurious black robe. He guides my arms through the sleeves and ties it snugly around my waist. He smells like sandalwood, and he’s so warm I want to lean into him.

  I don’t even protest when he carries me down the stairs to the dining room. “Sit. I’ll get the food.”

  Vitale looms just outside the door. With a sigh, I take a seat and hope to God there’s coffee.

  * * * *

  Damian

  “She screamed more than once. I checked on her, but she was asleep every time.”

  Vitale’s words haunt me. If only I’d known about her capture sooner…I could have saved her so many painful memories.

  When I return with breakfast, Evelyn has her hands folded in her lap, confusion obvious in the furrow of her brow. But when she sees the coffee pot, her eyes light up. “Please tell me that’s—“

  “A rich Italian roast? It is. Would you like some?” I enjoy how she struggles to keep a straight face.

  Serving her coffee, frittata, and toast, I take a seat across from her.

  “You said you’d…we’d—oh, God. This is really good.” Her words fade into a moan as she takes a bite.

  “Thank you. It was my mother’s recipe. She insisted her son know how to cook.”

  Evelyn draws in a sharp breath. “You made this?”

  “I didn’t grow up with servants and a silver spoon. I worked for everything, and I won’t let this family go down because Giacomo had no desire to do the right thing.” I stab a piece of frittata so hard my fork skids across the plate.

  “You’re not who I thought,” she says.

  “Is that…a compliment?”

  The corners of her lips twitch. “Maybe.” Dark circles swell under her eyes, and her cheek is several shades of purple. They were careful. No permanent injuries. Bruise on top of bruise on top of bruise.

  Sitting back, I take a sip of coffee. “Tell me about your sister.”

  * * * *

  “She was twenty-two,” Evelyn says. “She applied at the Feather Club because her landlord raised her rent. She needed better tips. God. If she’d only told me…“

  If I could, I’d drive to my uncle’s mansion and snap his fucking neck. Right now.

  Evelyn’s emerald eyes shimmer in the light streaming from the windows, and I slide my chair to take her hand. She doesn’t pull away when I skate my thumb over her knuckles.

  “I made some calls last night. My uncle buys heroin and ecstasy from a cartel in Roxbury. I’ll know names, addresses, and daily schedules by the end of the day. We can put an end to this.”

  “We?” she whispers.

  “Evelyn, Giacomo is dying. I planned to stop these dealings when I took over. I shouldn’t have waited. I won’t. Not any longer.” She worries her lip between her teeth, and I ache to kiss her. “The Forlano family makes its money off gamblers, drunks, and gluttons. But we do not kill people. I swear. On my honor.”

  Chapter Five

  Evelyn

  I want to believe him. His warm, strong fingers hold mine, and the intensity in his eyes...it’s like he can see into my soul. But what if I’m wrong?

  You’ve already lost everything. Your job. Reputation. No one will ever trust you again.

  “What do we do?” The words escape before I even realize what they mean.

  The smile that curves Damian’s lips makes me want more. Of it. Of him.

  “We’ll make some calls,” he says, as if it’s just natural that I’d trust him. A beat later, he must realize it’s not. His smile fades away. “I’m moving too quickly for you, topolina.”

  Standing, he arches a brow, and I let him lead me back to the bedroom.

  “One of my men picked up an assortment of clothing for you,” he says.

  The mountain of bags on the bed is a hell of a lot more than “an assortment,” and I gape.

  “I didn’t know what you’d like.” Damian shrugs. “Whatever you don’t want, I’ll donate to the women’s shelter. Relax. Dress. When you’re done, come to my study. Down the hall, last door on the right.”

  As he crosses the threshold, I find my voice. “You’re not...locking me in?”

  Turning, he sighs, his face sober. “No. Serg is guarding the front door—as always. I’d rather you not leave until I prove myself…trustworthy. Or, barring that, at least fire Mario and Sylvio. You’re not my prisoner, Evelyn. Not anymore.”

  * * * *

  I soak in the large tub to soothe my aching muscles and think. Nothing about Damian is what I expected, and everything about him screams danger. There’s more, though. Excitement. Comfort. Refuge. The promise of justice for Lisel.

  Isn’t that worth giving him information that could help? My former partner would kick my ass if he knew I was thinking about trusting Damian, but Nigel gave up on me a year ago. Like everyone else.

  What do I have to lose?

  Nothing.

  My inner voice has always been a pragmatist.

  After I dry off, I examine the pile of clothes, selecting a peach bra and panty set, designer jeans, a cashmere sweater in a rich coral, and a pair of flats that probably cost more than my last rent payment.

  If I’m selling my soul to the devil, at least he buys Prada?

  * * * *

  Damian

  My little mouse doesn’t make a sound as she enters my study. For a moment, I don’t either.

  “You look lovely.”

  She tugs at the hem of the v-neck sweater, and her cheeks flush an alluring shade, one I’d like to see all over her. “Thanks. Listen, if you want me to trust you...if you really are a good guy, I need to make a phone call.”

  I’m not surprised, but I can’t deny the fist squeezing my heart at her trepidation.

  I don’t hesitate to pull my cell phone from my pocket and hand it to her. “If you want privacy, you’ll have it. I’d only ask you not to call the police to my door.”

  “You can stay.”

  Shock sends my brows arching, but Evelyn is already dialing.

  “Hey. It’s me. I need a favor.” There’s a pause, and she continues. “I know, but...do this one last thing for me, okay? After that, I won’t bother you again.”

  The person on the other end of the call must agree, and she rattles off an email address. “I need the detailed chemical analysis of the heroin found in Lisel’s system, as well as the ecstasy she had in her apartment. And before you ask, no. I won’t tell you why.”

  Anger flashes in her eyes. “It’s not classified. One last favor, Nigel. It won’t come back to bite you. I swear on my life. On...Lisel’s memory.”

  She ends the call, deletes the number, and drops the phone into my hand as she pins me with a determined stare.

  “All right, Damian. Time to prove just how honorable you are.”

  Chapter Six

  Damian

  With the information Evelyn sends me, tying the Uvanski Cartel to the drugs that killed Lisel is simple. Or will be for my FBI contact.

  “What happens now?” she asks softly.

  “We wait. My contact said he’d need a day or two before he could make an arrest.” I smooth my hands down my thighs, unsure how to convince her to stay with me.

  Evelyn presses her lips together. “Here?”

  Sliding my chair over and caging her between my thighs, I mold my hands to her hips. “If you want to go home, I will take you. But I would very much like to spend the day with you. To get to know you.”

  I pull her against me. Cupping the back of her neck, I brush my lips to hers. My little mouse makes a small, desperate sound as my tongue traces the seam of her lips, and she parts for me, letting me in and wrapping her arms around my waist.

  The kiss is everything I’d imagined. Passion and heat, promise and a desperate need for more. For a solid minut
e—maybe two—we stay locked together until Evelyn pulls back and stares down at the floor.

  “Damian? I want to go home.”

  Chapter Seven

  Damian

  Giacomo went into the ground three days ago, and now, so many of the plans I’ve been making for the past two years have been set into motion.

  No more drugs or “massage parlors,” and I’ve purchased my first truly legitimate business—a BDSM club in Back Bay. It’s falling apart, and the idea of turning it around? I’m practically salivating. I need a challenge. Something to distract me from my near-constant thoughts of Evelyn.

  It’s been a month since I left her at her apartment, and not calling on her? Checking on her? It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

  I won’t chase her. That’s what I tell myself during the day, but at night, my resolve falters. The pillow she used for the one glorious night she was mine is now on my bed.

  Close to midnight, I find my enforcer at his post by the front door. “I won’t be leaving until morning, Vitale.”

  He nods his acknowledgement, and I turn when there’s a knock at the door. Vitale’s hand goes to the butt of his gun as he checks the peephole.

  “Uh, it’s her, boss.”

  “What?” I shove him out of the way and open the door. “Evelyn.”

  Her beauty has only grown. Flawless skin, unmarred by bruises, but hollow cheeks and bloodshot eyes. She’s exhausted.

  “Damian? Can we...talk?”

  I hold out my hand, and when she lets me lead her to the study, something settles inside of me. “Can I offer you a drink? Whiskey, grappa, tea?”

  “Whatever’s strongest.” She sinks down onto the leather loveseat and starts to fidget.

  “Grappa, then.” I pour two generous shots into tulip glasses and press one into her hand. “Salute.”

  Evelyn’s eyes widen as she swallows, but she takes a second swig a few seconds later. “It’s...good.”

  Her voice is raspy, the only evidence the liquor’s affected her.

  Emotions I don’t like swirl in my gut. Frustration. Need. Desire. “I wanted to call.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  My little mouse is hesitant, like she’s lost her way, yet there’s a clarity to her gaze I haven’t seen before.

  “You needed to heal. I needed you to come back of your own accord.”

  We sit in silence until the grappa is gone. “I’m done with the FBI, Damian.”

  Hope sparks, and I take her hands. “What will you do now?”

  “Private investigator.” She lifts a shoulder. “I applied for the license today. I can still help people.”

  “It’s important to you, topolina? Helping people?”

  She startles, shock infusing her tone. “It’s why I joined the FBI.”

  “Then why not stay?”

  Evelyn slides closer and wraps her arms around my waist. “Because then, I couldn’t have the one thing I know I want.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You.”

  * * * *

  When I lay her down on my bed, she doesn’t take her eyes off me. “Every night, I’d try to sleep, but all I could think about was our kiss.”

  “Oh, you will not be sleeping tonight. Not for many hours.” I lift her sweater—the sweater I bought her—and reveal her peach bra. “Fuck, Evelyn. You’re...perfect.”

  “And at a disadvantage. You’ve already seen me naked.”

  I place my hand over my heart. “I bathed you. I tried not to look. But I’ll level the playing field if that’s what you want.”

  “It is.”

  I undo the buttons on my shirt one at a time, her gaze following my every movement. When I reach my belt, she grins.

  “I changed my mind.”

  For a moment, I fear she’s speaking of us. But she skims her hands over my sides with a sexy little hum, then takes over stripping me until I’m naked before her.

  “That’s better.” Her fingers curl around my dick, and I’m eighteen again, hard, about to burst, and afraid I won’t last long enough to make it good for her.

  “Are you certain, topolina? I won’t have regrets,” I say as I relieve her of her jeans, then run my hands down her arms, linking our fingers and brushing my lips to hers.

  Evelyn pulls me closer, and her nipples pebble under the lace. “Yes, Damian.” She meets my gaze. “You liked seeing me tied up, didn’t you?”

  “I did.” My breath catches in my throat as she smiles.

  “Then do it again.”

  * * * *

  Evelyn

  I can’t believe I’m here. In Damian’s bed.

  “I like to be in control, topolina. But you can say ‘stop’ at any time, and I’ll untie you,” he says as he blindfolds me with his tie.

  Nodding, I try not to shiver. I want this. So badly I can taste it, but I’m also terrified. My entire life, I stuck to the law. Did what was expected. Hell, that’s why I joined the FBI. But now…that woman is gone, and in her place? Someone who likes breaking the rules a little.

  A soft length of rope winds around my wrist, and Damian knots it, then presses a kiss to my palm. The binding tugs as he ties it above my head, then secures my other hand the same way.

  Arousal floods my panties, and I whimper.

  “Not yet, topolina. Patience.”

  “Never my strong suit.”

  He takes his time. The panties hit the floor, and my legs are folded and tied so my ankles rest against the backs of my thighs and I’m spread open for him. Clad in only my bra, unable to see, I feel so exposed, but the thrill of being completely at his mercy...it’s incredible.

  “Are you still all right?” he asks, his lips against my ear.

  “Yes. Unless you count being desperate as fuck for you to take me.”

  Damian laughs, then nips at my neck. “You know what you want.”

  “You.”

  Kissing my collarbone, down to my breast, he fuels my need, and I moan, unable to reach for him or guide that talented mouth where I want it.

  He teases me for what feels like hours, bringing me to the edge over and over again, then pulling me back with pain—pinching my inner thigh or biting a nipple. I’m begging, my words escaping in harsh pants, until he settles between my bound legs and tastes me.

  “Oh, God. Damian. More!” I moan, and his fingers dig into my hips. My world is nothing but light and heat and need, and I give in with a scream.

  I barely register the crinkle of foil, and then his hard length presses to my entrance. “Evelyn.” His voice is ragged, and deep down, I know he’s asking for permission.

  “Yes. Inside me. Now.”

  It’s like he was made for me—or I was made for him—and the heady mix of pleasure and pain is almost too much.

  “I won’t last,” he says as he rips off the blindfold. “But I want you to see me when I make you mine.”

  “Do it.” I dare him to make good on his promise, but I lose my breath entirely when he starts to thrust.

  If I weren’t tied to the bed, I’d be flying, and the ropes...they make me feel safe. Protected. His.

  “Evelyn. Topolina. Sei mio.”

  Damian pinches my clit as he loses himself to his release, and bound and helpless, I go with him.

  * * * *

  I stare at the marks from the ropes as Damian retrieves a glass of water and a warm washcloth. He’s sweet now, tender as he cares for me.

  I’m shivering, and he slides under the blankets, then wraps his arms around me. “I don’t do casual relationships. I want you in my bed every night, topolina. Please...stay.”

  I want that too. I want to tell him how hard I’ve fallen in such a short time. But the words are too hard when the man I’ve been dreaming of every night is now holding me. So I say the only thing I can.

  “I’ll stay.”

  Copyright 2020 Patricia D. Eddy

  About Patricia D. Eddy

  Patricia D. Eddy writes romance for the beau
tifully broken. Fueled by coffee, wine, and Doctor Who episodes on repeat, she brings damaged heroes and heroines together to find their happy ever afters in many different worlds. From military to paranormal to BDSM, her characters are unstoppable forces colliding with such heat, sparks always fly.

  Patricia makes her home in Seattle with her husband and very spoiled cats, and when she’s not writing, she loves working on home improvement projects, especially if they involve power tools.

  Her award-winning Away From Keyboard series will always be her first love, because that’s where she realized the characters in her head were telling their own stories—and she was just writing them down.

  If you’d like to read more from Patricia, check out her most popular series here or head over to her website at https://patriciadeddy.com, and on Instagram and Facebook. For a free romantic suspense short story from Patricia, you can sign up for her newsletter.

  Restrained

  My story, Her Mafioso’s Honor is the start of a brand new series planned for release in 2021. Until then, check out the Restrained series, a complete set of four BDSM romances. Damian makes an appearance or two.

  In His Silks

  Christmas Silks

  All Tied Up For New Year’s

  In His Collar

  Away From Keyboard

  If you love military romances with beautifully broken heroes and heroines, the Away From Keyboard series is for you! Each book features a different couple, and past couples always show up in future books, so you never have to say goodbye to any of your favorites.

  You can find all eight of the books in the series on my website.

  Other Books

  I write almost every romance genre out there, so check out my website for a complete listing of my romantic suspense, paranormal, and BDSM romances! Thank you so much for reading Her Mafioso’s Honor!