The Brit

by Jodi Ellen Malpas

  But Danny can feel them when his hand lands on my leg. I sense his wicked grin spread across my skin as his lips linger, my cheek set to burst into flames with the rest of my body. We’ve been here a few minutes. How will I ever get through the entire evening?

  “I think you’ve made your point,” I say quietly as the waitress pours us wine.

  “On the contrary.” His big hand squeezes my thigh, his rough palms bunching the luxury satin fabric along with my flesh. “I haven’t even started yet.”

  “Why don’t you just fuck me on the table and be done with it?” I say stupidly, my own words making me shift uncomfortably in my seat. I’ve never been turned on. I’ve pretended to be and always done a stellar job, and now I have to pretend not to be.

  Don’t be turned on, Rose!

  I just know I’m not very convincing. Maybe to everyone surrounding us, but to Danny Black who’s touching me, feeling me, I’m not fooling him. How can you hate someone and lust for them at the same time?

  Black’s face doesn’t crack as he stares me down. “Something tells me you’d love that.”

  “Never.”

  Taking his glass of wine, he guides it to my lips, forcing me to open. The crisp, refreshing white wine slides down my throat, and Black slides closer. “You have some here.” Leaning in, he licks from one corner of my mouth to the other. Slowly. Softly. “Never,” he mimics me, full of knowing. My heart begins to pulse as I silently weigh up the merits of giving in to the madness of my body’s wants. Just to get it done with. Just to rid myself of this helpless feeling of desperation. For the first time in my adult life, I feel scared. I don’t like it. But as I keep reminding myself, I sleep with who I am told to sleep with, and I haven’t been told to sleep with Danny Black. I hate myself for wishing I had. But none of this matters, because Danny Black takes what he wants. I would never be able to stop him, and that terrifies me. I wouldn’t want to stop him. That terrifies me more. Yet there have been plenty of moments in the past twenty-four hours when he could have forced me. But he hasn’t.

  “Why haven’t you fucked me?”

  He pulls back, his face hovering a mere inch away from mine. “You sound disappointed.”

  “Here on this table. Me screaming for you to stop. Wouldn’t that be the biggest fuck you to Perry?”

  “I’m many things, Rose, but I am not a rapist.”

  “Oh, would that be a step too far into animal territory?”

  His quick hand grabs my jaw, squeezing it firmly, and his eyes cloud, darkening, a thunderstorm rolling through their depths. I’ve touched a nerve. “We’ll find out if you continue to push me.”

  He doesn’t mean that. A veil of bricks just fell into place, a protective shield. “I don’t want you to rape me,” I murmur, unable to stop my mind from casting back to the most hideous moments in my life. I unwittingly flinch, looking away so he loses his hold, but my jaw is quickly reclaimed, and my face is pulled back.

  His eyes jump to mine, suddenly unsure. And he stares at me, deeply, trying to read what’s in my eyes. Has he clicked? Read me? Figured it out?

  Black drops my face and puts distance between us, his jaw tight as he throws back his wine, looking across to Perry. He raises his glass, pulling an evil smile from nowhere as he toasts the air between them. The mask is back in place. “Lovely evening for it,” Black calls, putting his arm around me again and tugging me close. “Enjoy your meal, Adams. I know I will.”

  * * *

  It’s hell. Pure, painful, burning hell. Acting has always been a natural ability since my life depended on it. Hiding my feelings and true emotions came instinctively. Holding up that front in the presence of Danny Black doesn’t come so naturally. It’s an effort, and it’s wearing me down bit by bit. I endure him sporadically feeding me throughout our appetizers and main course. I hold my breath countless times when he touches my leg. And I cling to my wine glass like it’s a life jacket when his touch slips between my thighs, stroking over my begging core.

  Black doesn’t miss any of it, at one point peeling my fingers from my glass and smiling. At another point, he squeezes my hand in an odd move to reassure me.

  Perry watches it all. I know it, can feel his eyes on me throughout the entire performance, and Danny Black relishes every second. I’m eating everything being put in my mouth by him, swallowing hard each time, praying my twisting stomach doesn’t revolt and send it back up.

  By the time he’s cleared my plate and placed the fork neatly to the side, I’m full, exhausted, and feeling infuriatingly emotional. While Danny’s had an amazing time, apparently, I feel like I’ve been dragged through erotic hell. I’m silently begging him to take me back to his room so I can sleep off these alien feelings and wake feeling my usual self.

  “I enjoy feeding you,” Black says quietly, resting his hand on mine gently.

  I look into his eyes and quickly dart them away, wishing the hardness back. They’re currently soft. “Why are you being nice?”

  “Because the best fuck you to Adams is him watching you fall deeper and deeper under my spell. And it seems I don’t have to work too hard to achieve that.” He drops his napkin on the empty plate and slides his palm onto my neck, tugging me forward until his exhale of breath supplies my inhale. “If I kissed you now, would you fight me?”

  I breathe in shakily, unsure of his motive. “Will you kill me if I do?”

  He smiles a little. “No.” Then he slowly drops his mouth to mine and simply rests our lips together. My shakes are instant. And so are his. He doesn’t move, doesn’t try to gain access to my mouth. He’s testing me. I’m not fighting. I really don’t know what to do. Perry is only a few feet away. I’m supposed to be finding this kiss the most disgusting thing ever, but, in truth, it’s the most consuming ever. Just our lips touching. His lips. Soft lips on a hard face. My tongue is aching with the effort it’s taking me to hold it back. I desperately want to advance our touching lips, but when he moans, I’m snapped from my weak moment.

  I pull back, flustered, and he smiles.

  “Now, I’ve made my point.” He takes my hand and helps me to my wobbly feet, and I glance up, across the restaurant.

  And freeze.

  It’s dark, but I would know his menacing face anywhere.

  Nox.

  And as quick as he’s there, he’s gone. I come over freezing cold, scanning the space frantically for him. Oh my God. He’s here. He’s seen I’m with Black. He’s seen the spectacle that was our dinner.

  I’m pulled two paces before Black brings us to a stop at Perry’s table. His arm slides around my waist and pulls me close. I keep my eyes down, afraid I’ll reveal my desire, and not just to Perry. I’m not stupid enough to know that if I can’t see Nox, it doesn’t mean he can’t see me. I can feel his evil presence lingering, can hear his threats whirling through my mind.

  “I hope your meal was satisfactory,” Black says, and I hear a few low mumbles from Perry’s dinner companions. But not from Perry. He cannot react in front of these men, especially not in public. He can’t risk the backlash of social media and its daily scrutiny of whether or not he’s the best candidate as mayor. But is his silence terror or false bravado?

  “I’m taking dessert in our room.” Black drops a kiss on my cheek before I’m led away.

  “Madam!” someone calls, and Danny stops us, his men quickly moving in to surround us.

  I turn and find the waiter who served us throughout dinner holding out my purse, looking a little alarmed by the wall of men blocking his way to me. “Your purse,” he murmurs.

  Brad claims it and silently passes it to me. “Thank you,” I say quietly as Black escorts me away.

  “Have you had a nice evening, Rose?” he asks, stroking the base of my spine.

  I nod in reply. It’s all I’m capable of with the heat of him touching me burning away my power of speech, and the fear of Nox’s presence knocking my confidence.

  When we reach the elevator, we’re approached by the
casino manager again, his distance being kept safe by Black’s men. “Will sir be requiring the helicopter?”

  “Keep it on standby until the morning,” Danny says, nodding to Brad who hands over more notes.

  We enter the elevator and the doors slide close. The small space is suffocating, and not because of the four big men surrounding us. I can’t breathe. Can’t think. I’m in up to my neck.

  “Rose?”

  I look up through my lashes, the backs of my eyes stinging. The concern on his face only makes it worse. He frowns, and I quickly look away, feeling a bead of sweat tricking down between the center of my breasts. I need to hold it together. Just hold it together. “Too much seafood,” I murmur, exhaling when the doors slide open, blessing me with air and space.

  When we make it into the suite, I hurry away, taking myself to the bathroom. I hear one of his men say something as I go, though I don’t catch what, and I hear Black mumbling something in return. I feel sick. Terribly sick. I practically throw myself over the sink, running the tap and dousing my face with cold water. The relief is instant, but it has nothing to do with the cool water on my skin and everything to do with the distance I’ve gained from Black. He can’t see me like this.

  But that distance doesn’t last long, yet I’ve stolen enough time to gather my nerves. He enters the bathroom, pulling at his tie before unbuttoning his suit jacket. “So, dessert?”

  I slowly turn, ready for more of his games. The reset button has been pressed. I should’ve known Nox would find me. Would know my every move, whether I chose to make it or was forced to. “I’m full.”

  His eyes drop to between my thighs. “You sure?”

  “Very.” I walk past him, brushing his arm as I go. I expect to be grabbed, manhandled to a wall, and tortured some more. But much to my shock, he lets me leave. I reach to the back of my dress and feel for the zipper. I pull it down, letting my dress drop and pool at my feet, and I step out of it, leaving my heels buried in the mass of material, unpinning my hair as I walk to the bed.

  Then I crawl in and turn onto my side, closing my eyes and wishing for a clean outcome to this horror movie. But Nox knows. Fuck, what will he do? I know what. I can kiss goodbye to my updates.

  When the bed dips beside me, I open my eyes and find him sitting on the edge in front of me, his torso bare. His beautiful, hard chest. The shadows between each raised muscle hold my attention. “I’ll take that as a no.” He rests his finger under my chin and lifts my face to meet his eyes. Then he places a soft kiss on my forehead. “Sleep well, Rose.” He leaves.

  And my meltdown begins.

  Chapter 9

  DANNY

  * * *

  I take myself to the office, pour myself a hard drink, and slump in the chair, opening the drawer and taking out her mobile phone. I check the screen. Nothing.

  My head pounds as I spin it in my grasp, my head falling to the back of the chair. She is fascinating me more by the minute, no matter how hard I’m trying to force my mind into line. I want to know her history. I want to know every fucking thing there is to know.

  I also don’t want to know.

  Knocking back my drink, I savor the burn as it works its way down to my stomach. Brad walks in, taking off his jacket and tossing it on the chair, joining me for a drink. “Quite a show you put on tonight.” He rotates his wrist, swirling the Scotch so it coats every bit of the glass. Then he raises it. “Assuming it was a show.”

  I eye him as he sips his drink, rather than knocking it back like me. He can’t need it as much as I do. Brad holds my stare, waiting.

  “There’s something about her,” I admit, doing what I’ve never done before. Confiding in someone. Truth be told, I’ve never had to confide in Brad. He reads me like a book. Like now. I’ve never entered into a discussion with him on anything other than work. That’s just the way it’s been since we were kids. I think it stems from us both fearing that any show of emotion would render us less capable in our deadly world. With my father mentoring us, it’s understandable why we took that angle. But now he’s dead. And I need to get this off my chest. And though my father always said trust no one, he knew I trusted Brad.

  Brad takes a seat, resting his glass on the arm of the leather chair. “There’s something about her,” he muses quietly. “You mean those insanely long legs, flawless skin, and perfect breasts that are the starring role of any man’s wet dream?”

  I give him a tried look. “Her assets aren’t helping matters,” I admit. The woman is a goddess.

  “We’ve had many pretty women in our beds. What is it about his one?”

  “I see something familiar in her.”

  “What?”

  “Me.”

  Brad falters a beat, a flash of worry washing over his rugged face. “You, how?”

  “Lost. Trapped.” I swig more of my drink. “Dead.”

  He looks wary. Probably should be. There aren’t many people—only two in fact, Pops and Brad—who know my history before Carlo Black found me. Brad’s mother, my father’s sister, took me in as her own, just as Pops did. Brad respected his mother, listened to her, and we soon became best friends, as well as family.

  “She’s the mistress of an upcoming politician,” Brad says. “She’s not trapped. She’s with him because she’s a gold-digging whore like the rest of them. And she doesn’t look very dead to me.”

  I let his analysis of Rose go over my head, ignoring that his detrimental label riles me. “There’s more to it,” I say, getting up and pacing the room. “Her back’s bruised as fuck. Like she’s been punched in the kidneys by a pretty solid fucking fist.”

  “She’s not your concern. She’s here for a reason, Danny. Remember that.”

  I breathe in and pull myself together, if only to try and convince Brad I’m thinking straight. I’m not. “Tell me the deal.”

  “Adams leaves tomorrow. Back to Miami to pick up his campaign, though how he’s going to do that is a mystery since his bank account is dry.”

  I eye Brad with caution. “Completely?”

  “All gone.”

  “And he hasn’t asked for more,” I muse, looking out across the skyline of Vegas. “So who’s bank rolling him now?”

  “Whoever it is, we need to ask if they knew you were bankrolling Adams first. Because if so, we’re dealing with braver men than I knew existed.”

  “Or Adams has kept my contributions to himself, leaving his new investors in the dark.”

  “The Russians?”

  “The Russians have an agreement with us. They wouldn’t break it.”

  “The Romanians?”

  “The last time the Romanians tried to move in on the US, most of them ended up dead, remember?”

  Brad smiles. “I remember.”

  Pops didn’t wait for them to come to him when he got word of their plan from the Russians. He went to them. Killed the problem, namely their leader. What was his name? Ah, that’s right. Dimitri. Marius Dimitri. His men scattered like ants and haven’t reformed since. I was fifteen at the time. Pops took Brad and me along for the ride. It was the first time I held a gun, and I was forced to use it. Not because Pops made me, but because one of the Romanian fuckers had Brad. Stupid fuck was so busy watching the grown-ups, he missed me in the car. I took the greatest of pleasure blowing out his brain. Pops smiled. Brad, slightly shook up from staring death in the face, swore he’d repay me, and he has. Tenfold.

  Brad sighs. “The Mexicans?”

  “They don’t have the resources, or the balls.”

  “You sound sure.”

  “I’m sure of nothing. Check them all out.” Nothing more needs to be said. “The shipment?”

  “Half the money is in the bank. We need to be ready for the exchange next week.”

  “And the goods get here . . .”

  “The day before the exchange.”

  “Have the men check it all before the Russians arrive.”

  “Done. So we’re leaving tomorrow?”

>   “In the morning.”

  “And the girl?”

  “She comes with us.” I wander over to the desk and slide her phone across to Brad. “Have one of the men get into this.” I knock back my drink and slam the glass down. Conversation done.

  The next morning, I stand at the edge of the bed watching her. She looks like Sleeping Fucking Beauty. So peaceful and serene. I almost don’t want to wake her.

  Almost.

  Yanking the covers back, I expose her in all her naked glory, at the same time abruptly waking her. Her sleepy eyes blink rapidly until she eventually glares at me. “Get ready. We’re leaving in an hour.” I make my way to the shower to wash off the sweat from my morning workout.

  She’s in fast pursuit. “Where are we going?” Her panic is obvious as I kick my shorts off and step into the stall. She’s doing nothing to hide her nakedness, standing as bold as I know her to be on the other side of the screen.

  I keep my stare up. “To my home.”

  Her eyes widen. “What? No, I can’t.”

  My hands pause on my head as it cocks. She’s getting herself in a state again, just like last night in the elevator. The barrier is slowly crumbling. “Yes, you can.”

  “What if Perry doesn’t get you the marina or pay you back? What then? You keep me forever?”

  I hum to myself, as if considering that. “Yes,” I answer, going back to washing my hair.

  “I need to go back to him.”

  “Why?” I ask, straight up. “Come on, Rose. You don’t love him. And it can’t be the fucking money, because it turns out he doesn’t have any now.”

  Her face falters, confusion mixing with the fury. “And why are you so desperate for that marina?”

  I don’t entertain her question, taking myself under the spray and rinsing my hair. “Stop staring at me and go pack.”