Their Cartel Princess: The Complete Series: A Dark Reverse Harem Box Set

by Logan Fox

  She inhaled a heavy breath and turned to Kane.

  He’d been staring at her, not the ocean.

  Cora took a step back, not expecting the inquisitive sparkle in his eyes, and stumbled at the difference in ground level from the room to the terrace. Kane caught her arm, hauled her back inside, and closed the door behind her.

  “You’re letting in the rain.”

  “I like rain,” she said, but the response was as automated as the telephonic voice that tolled out the time when you called The Talking Clock.

  “You got to get out of your head, Cora.” Kane’s hazel eyes dragged down her body. “He can’t see you like this.”

  Who? Who couldn’t—?

  Benecio. Of course. Why had she thought of Finn?

  Because they still didn’t know she was safe. Where she was. If she was ever coming back.

  She made to move past Kane, catching sight of a telephone against the wall. But he caught her arm again and turned her around.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have to call them,” she said.

  His eyes flinched. “Now?”

  “I need to let them know I’m safe.”

  “Will that make you feel better?”

  Her mouth worked. “It will make them feel better.”

  “No. I forbid it.”

  She blinked at him, let out a short laugh, and then felt her face melting into shock. “You what?”

  “I won’t let you phone them.” He took a slow step toward her. “We’re going to order in. Have something to eat. Then we’re meeting Benecio in the dining room downstairs. If you strike a deal with him… then, and only then, will I allow you to phone your boys.”

  Allow her?

  Heat suffused her cheeks, intensifying when Kane gave her a crooked smile.

  She tore her arm free, spun around, and headed for the telephone. “I don’t know who you think you are,” she said, her voice strangled by a too-tight throat, “but if you think for one fucking second you can tell me what to do—”

  A hand closed over the back of her neck. She gasped, barely getting her hands out in time before Kane shoved her against the wall beside the telephone.

  “I’m the guy who’s saving your ass,” Kane said. “See, that way, I don’t risk getting burned for the likes of you.”

  His voice sounded different. Deeper, rougher. A tiny tendril of fear burrowed itself into Cora’s stomach. She tried kicking out behind her, but Kane held her at the end of a stiff arm — too far away to reach.

  She scratched her nails over his hand, his wrist, but he didn’t even flinch.

  “Let go!” she yelled, flinging out an arm. She knocked the receiver from its hook, sending the wireless telephone thumping to the floor.

  “I’d prefer not to.”

  Kane swung her around, herded her to the room’s king-sized bed, and tossed her onto the coverlet like he was discarding his jacket after a long day at the office.

  She tumbled over once, scrambled up, and instinctively made a grab for her Taurus.

  But wasn’t packing, was she? Ronan’s lackey, Owen, had disarmed her before she’d been brought her clothes.

  “If you don’t make this deal,” Kane said in that stranger’s voice of his, “Then my ass is on the line. Comprehende?”

  She sneered at him, easing off the bed as if any sudden moves might startle him. But he just stood there, head to one side as he studied her with an uneven smile.

  What the hell was wrong with her? How the fuck could she have been pining for this man? He was dangerous and volatile. And she’d agreed to go over the border with him. She’d isolated herself here, in this hotel room, with him.

  Kane’s eyes moved down her body, sticking halfway. She plucked her hand away the instant she realized she had laid it over her belly again.

  His eyes snapped back to hers. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  “No,” she barked out.

  Kane ambled closer. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. How about we have a drink, relax a little?”

  She circled around him, keeping the same distance between them. “I’ve got a better suggestion. You stay here, and I’ll get a different room. Fuck, I’ll just wait in the dining room until Benecio gets here.”

  “How will that look?” Kane asked with a small shrug. “La Sombra waiting on someone else? Make him wait.”

  “Well I’m not staying here.” Especially when she could still feel his fingers gripping the back of her neck, a phantom touch that pulsed in time with her thumping heart.

  “It’s cute that you think you have a choice.”

  Anger bubbled up inside her again. What the hell was it with every man she met thinking she answered to him?

  Then again… she hadn’t been brave today. Chickening out during the flight. Acting like a raving lunatic last night.

  Did she have anyone else but herself to blame?

  She straightened her shoulders. Picked up her chin. And turned her glare into a dispassionate stare.

  “I always have a choice. I could have chosen to leave you there.”

  Kane’s smile hitched up on one side. “You didn’t come for me, sweetheart. You came for Bailey.”

  Her lips moved, but she didn’t deny the truth of his statement.

  “But you did come, even in your state. Despite not knowing the first thing about Ronan, or his operation. Why?”

  In her state? She forced her hand to stay by her side instead of stroking her belly like it wanted to.

  Did he know?

  “I love him. I would do anything for him.”

  Kane’s eyebrows twitched at that. “And what about the two you left behind? Do you love them?”

  “Yes,” she said without hesitation.

  “But not as much as Bailey?”

  “What?” She frowned hard at him, taking a step closer as if to give her words more strength. “Of course I do.”

  Kane gave shrug. “What a strange little world you live in.”

  He stepped closer until they were almost touching, but this time she stood her ground. She wouldn’t let another man bully her.

  Kane gripped the lapel of his jacket she still wore and slipped a hand inside. Brushing his palm over her breast — whether intentionally or not was impossible to tell, he rummaged in one of the pockets and pulled out a lighter. A joint came out of his jeans pocket, and he lit it without moving so much as an inch away from her. The sweet stench enveloped her, but she still didn’t step back.

  “What am I going to do with you, Cora?” Kane mumbled, his words emerging between puffs of pale smoke. “What am I going to do with you?”

  Cora stared at Kane, her body aching as she considered his words.

  “When I make you angry,” Kane said, running the side of his hand down her face, “you become too emotional.”

  Her brows drew together, her gaze locking with his as he studied her. She wanted to say something, but her mouth had gone dry.

  “But if you’re not angry, then you’re scared.”

  “I’m not—”

  But he cut her off again. “Help me out here. How are we going to get you ready for this fight?”

  “What fight?” Cora scowled up at Kane. “I’m here to meet a dealer, that’s it. I’ve done it before.”

  “I can tell. You’re oozing confidence from every pore,” Kane said dryly, finishing the joint. He stepped away from her, opening the balcony doors and tossing the roach into the wind.

  Fuck, he was right. Her fingertips prickled with nerves. Was it because she’d never met this guy? Or was it the pressure of Bailey’s life on her conscience if she didn’t make this deal?

  Kane’s too, from the sounds of it.

  Hers and Baby Girl’s, as if she could forget.

  “Should have left you some of the weed,” Kane said to himself. “But I’m not sure how weed would affect a baby.”

  Ice flowed over her skin like she’d stepped under a waterfall. Her throat moved
as she forced a swallow.

  “You make it so fucking obvious…” Kane spun around, giving her a harsh once-over. “He’s going to know the moment you shake hands.”

  Cora gritted her teeth. “How?” she whispered. “How am I supposed to hide it?”

  “You stop bringing attention to it. Benecio’s not about to shoot you in the middle of a hotel dining room. He’s here to make a deal, just like you are. But you gotta play it cool.”

  Easy for him to say. Even when Will had dragged him in from wherever they’d been keeping him in Ronan’s mansion, he’d been as calm as a tax collector.

  She tipped her head back, doing her best to smooth her expression.

  Kane laughed. “Are you trying to look calm?”

  “Is it working?”

  He laughed again and grabbed a hold of his jacket. Sliding it off her shoulders, he tossed it onto the bed.

  Like he’d tossed her moments ago.

  Her cheeks warmed — his phantom touch on the back of her neck coming back tenfold… and just when it had finally faded.

  “Relax your shoulders,” he said.

  She dropped her shoulders, rolled them, and tried to relax.

  “Stop clenching your teeth.”

  Which she hadn’t even realized that’s what she’d been doing until he told her to stop.

  “And pick an eye.”

  “What?” she said through a blustery, incredulous laugh.

  His smile cropped up out of nowhere again. “Pick one of my eyes to look at. Don’t keep going from one to the other. It makes you look nervous.”

  “I was—was I—?” But then she realized she was doing it and found it impossible to stop.

  Kane lifted a finger and held it under his left eye.

  So she stared at it. Blinked. Adjusted her focus.

  “Perfect. See, now you don’t look like a crazy person anymore.”

  “I didn’t even know I did that.”

  “You do. And it gets worse when you’re riled up.”

  She should have looked away by now. After all, he’d made his point. But she couldn’t.

  “Keep your hands busy,” he said, touching both her wrists. “So this doesn’t keep happening.” He laid her hands on her belly, like she’d been doing earlier.

  His hands were warm over hers, and so large. She gave a nod, tried to step back, and failed. She was glued to the spot.

  “See?” he cocked his head to the side. “You’re doing a million times better.”

  “I’d feel better if I could call them. Let them know I’m okay.”

  His smile inched up. “No. Calling them is your reward. You only get it when you’ve done a good job.”

  He was trying to rile her up again, wasn’t he? Well, it wasn’t going to work. She was on to him now.

  “Fine.” She turned away, flicking a hand toward the phone where it lay on the carpet. “Then I guess you’ll have to order room service.”

  25

  Lady Whore

  Bailey climbed wearily into his room’s en suite shower, turned on the cold water, and attempted to drench sleep from his mind.

  Sleep.

  What a joke.

  If he’d slept more than an hour, he’d convert.

  No — he’d stared at the ceiling for longer than he could remember, wondering where the hell Cora was. If Ronan had contacted her yet, forced her to come and rescue him.

  Oh, he’d proven himself all right.

  Proven what a fucking idiot he was.

  He dried himself, tied the towel around his waist, and returned to the bedroom. He lay back on the bed, trying to gather enough motivation to put his clothes on.

  Cora was better off without him. At least she’d still have Finn and Lars, and they at least had—

  The door to his room opened, and Shayla stepped inside. If not exactly bright eyed and bushy tailed, she at least looked as if she’d gotten sleep. Her makeup was fresh, her hair washed and styled. Yesterday’s clothes were rumpled, which was to be expected. He’d been brought a fresh pair of pants and a shirt. Fuck knew who it had belonged to, but he avoided it like the plague. He’d wear his own threads until they were too stiff to put on.

  Shayla’s eyes lingered over him as she stepped deeper into the room.

  “What do you want?” he grated, running his hands through his hair as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

  “I’m sorry, Bailey.”

  “No, you’re not,” he said through a snort as he pushed past her to fetch his clothes from the back of the chair. He didn’t bother leaving the room to dress — she’d seen his junk before anyway. “You’re so fucking pleased with yourself, I can smell it on you.”

  “I didn’t… look, this will all be over before you know it, okay?” Shayla’s voice came closer, but she stopped again a few feet away.

  “Yeah, Shayla,” Bailey mused, spinning around so fast he made her jump. “’Cos Ronan King’s such a stand-up guy that he’ll let us all leave when this is done.” He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “No harm, no foul, right?”

  “Bailey—”

  “Get out,” he snapped, stabbing a finger at the door.

  “Bailey, please, just let me—”

  “You’ve done enough!” he roared.

  An instant later, he had Shayla pinned to the wall beside the door, a hand around her throat and the other against her belly. Her brown eyes went wide, lips parting as if she was planning to scream, and then sealing as if she’d decided not to.

  “Don’t you get it?” he grated. “We were fine. Everything was fine. And then Kane, and then you—”

  He clapped a hand over his eyes, trying to will away his sudden furious anger. When he dragged his fingers away from his eyes, Shayla’s lips quivered.

  “I’m sorry,” Bailey murmured. “This isn’t your fault. It’s mine.” He stepped back, both hands running through his hair. “I just couldn’t let it go. I had to find a reason for her to ditch Kane.”

  “What?” Shayla asked, her voice sounding as unsteady as she looked. She stayed standing against the wall, palms pressed flat to the wallpaper as if for support.

  Bailey gave his head a shake, scratching his nails through his stubble as he strode to the window.

  From the angle of the light, it was mid-morning. He’d heard movement and voices outside earlier, but his door had been locked from the outside so he couldn’t investigate.

  “I didn’t trust him from the get-go. Not one bit. But I was the only one. Everyone else fell for his charm.”

  Which wasn’t entirely true. There’d been so much going on, how could he possibly say that they’d been anything other than disinterested?

  “They won’t let her come for the likes of me,” Bailey said, a grim smile on his face. He turned to Shayla, and she looked taken aback at his expression. “It was a good plan, Shayla, but it will never work.”

  She watched him for a few seconds and then gave her lips a quick swipe. One of her hands crept behind her, and she rubbed her hip as if she’d bumped it.

  “Bailey,” she whispered, taking a step forward.

  “What?”

  Her face fell. “I shouldn’t have done what I did. But… the way you went on about her…” She shrugged and glanced at him before fixing on the floor again. “It’s a bitch eat bitch world. You know that. If I can’t be heartless, if I can’t put aside everything I feel—” her words cut off. “You’ve got to understand—”

  Something cold and serpentine wrapped itself around Bailey’s heart and squeezed.

  No. They wouldn’t have… Finn and Lars had been adamant—

  “She’s here.” The words were barely out before he stormed for the door.

  “Bailey, please! They won’t—”

  But he shoved Shayla aside so hard that she almost toppled over and wrenched open the door.

  An automatic rifle swung in his direction, and he had no choice but to skid to a halt. That, or have his guts paint the wallpaper a nice shad
e of red.

  “Is she here?” he asked the guard, whose expression didn’t alter one bit.

  He swung around, glaring at Shayla. “Is she here?” he bellowed.

  Shayla had a hand on her throat, the other tucked under her arm. “Not anymore. They left this morning.”

  “Left? Left where?”

  “Bailey, calm—”

  He rushed her, but she scurried out of his way before he could grab her.

  “Hey, leave the lady alone,” came a voice from the doorway. His brawny babysitter did a good job of filling the door frame, his rifle pointed squarely at Bailey. Shayla edged closer to the door, hands lifted toward Bailey as if to ward him off.

  “Lady?” Bailey said through a derisive snort. “She’s a fucking whore. Always has been. She’ll sleep with anything if it’ll get her one step closer to whatever the fuck she thinks is the good life.”

  Shayla’s face paled, but this time with anger. “Fuck you, Bailey.” She stabbed a finger in his direction. “You know that’s not—”

  “Yeah?” Bailey surged forward and then halted when the guy at the door grabbed Shayla’s shoulder and hauled her from the room. “I know you, Shayla!” Bailey yelled after her. “You can pretend all you want, but I know you.”

  The guard gave him a disgusted sneer before slamming the door shut. There was the unmistakable sound of a lock being turned, and then silence.

  Shit.

  He’d blown it.

  Shayla could have been his ticket out of here, but he had to let his fucking emotions get the better of him.

  He let out a roar, grabbed the closest thing at hand, and threw it.

  A large, oval mirror set against one wall shattered. The shards glittered in Mallhaven’s too-cheery light as they fell to the carpet.

  All that remained in the frame were two jagged teeth, and his own severed reflection.

  “You okay there, babe?”

  Shayla realized she’d been glaring at the door the guard had slammed in Bailey’s face. She turned the glare to the guard instead, and he looked confused.