Hyland's Property

by Felicity Brandon

  Yes, he was strikingly attractive, and something about his domineering character made me melt inside, but clearly, he was mentally unbalanced. You couldn’t just meet someone and capture them as your own—it wasn’t right—though even as the thoughts registered, something about the way Saul’s long-term friend, Connor Reilly, had met his girlfriend, Molly, rang a bell in my mind. I didn’t know the whole story, of course, seeing how I was only Saul’s assistant, and my relationship with Connor had been brief at best, but I’d heard the rumors and had a good idea the way Molly had come into his life had been anything but conventional. I also knew what Connor had been charged with when they’d arrested him and the long hours of counseling Molly had undergone. To the entire world, their attraction seemed like Stockholm syndrome. I scoffed at it on more than one occasion, yet now look at my predicament—I was the one kidnapped, stripped, and held under duress, and now, my captor was bandying the idea of matrimony around like a second date.

  “Remember what I told you.” His voice was a low snarl. “Behave yourself, or I will make you regret it.”

  Our gazes locked for a moment, his blue eyes cold as they glowered. Right on cue, I shivered, suddenly cold now the excitement of the last climax had withered.

  “You really want to marry me, Sir?” I sounded monotonic as I asked, a part of my brain still unable to comprehend the conundrum as I glanced around the disgusting room that had become my cell.

  Marriage, for God’s sake. I didn’t even know if I wanted those things with Saul, let alone a madman I’d literally stumbled into. The last thing I needed was to bind myself to the psychopath in any meaningful way. I needed to get away, back to Saul and The Syndicate, as soon as I could. I needed to—

  “Yes.” The assuredness in his tone broke my train of thought, and I lifted my chin to meet his eyes again. “Yes, I do.”

  “But why?” It was a good question. “You could have anyone you wanted, Sir. Why me?”

  I hoped stroking his ego a little, I could win his favor, and based on the way his lips curled, my ploy seemed to be working.

  “I didn’t know what I was missing until I found you.”

  He winked like something out of one of those cheesy romantic movies, but even though my heart raced at the gesture, my head knew better. This was not a movie, and there wouldn’t be a happy ending. Terrible things happened to women who were captured by the enemy, and that’s what Sean was. He was the one who’d inherit the Hyland empire. He’d come back to take over what his uncle had left, and apparently, me as well. My muscles tightened at the suffocating thought. I could fight all I wanted, but I’d been around The Syndicate long enough to know how these things went. Powerful men like Hyland had virtual impunity from the law. They took what they wanted, and nine times out of ten, they got away with it. My insides clenched at the insidious truth. Things were not looking good for my future.

  He shifted to my ankles, and once again, I considered kicking the son of a bitch and heading for the door, but insecurity wracked my brain. I knew these buildings well enough to know there would be armed men around the place. I was half-naked and had nothing to defend myself with. Now was hardly the ideal time to launch an offensive.

  But there might not be a better one, the small nagging voice in my head goaded. This might be all the time you have left.

  “What if I don’t want to marry you?” There was steel in my tone, despite its quiet volume. Liberating the final ankle strap, he met my insistent gaze.

  “You’ll come around to the idea.”

  He sounded so sure of himself, so smug and self-aware, for a moment, the rage simmering at my captivity and treatment bubbled violently, threatening to consume me. How dare he make these assumptions? How dare he think he could decide anything for me? Sean didn’t know me, and what little I knew of him was cruel and odious.

  “Don’t do that.”

  I swallowed at the instruction, my brow furrowing.

  “What?” I glanced around, aware I was breathing hard again as the list of accusations about him grew in my head. “Don’t do what, Sir?”

  It pained me to refer to him that way again. Now the fogged arousal had lifted, it was much more difficult to look the man in the eyes and infer he was in any way better than me, but at the same time, I couldn’t deny how sexy it was. Every time I used the title, I was aware of how my body responded—the rush of moisture between my legs and the disturbing way my nipples, so recently abused by the wooden clothespins, beaded. It was disconcerting, to say the least, made all the worse by the fact there was nowhere for me to go—nowhere to hide from the way my body betrayed my true feelings.

  “Don’t look at me that way.” He scowled, rising to his full height. “I can see the way your jaw clenches and your hands ball into fists but don’t even think about it, Hilary. You’re too fragile and hopelessly outnumbered, and let me assure you, you won’t like me if you do something stupid.”

  Frowning, I lifted my chin in defiance. “What makes you think I like you now, Sir?”

  That time, the title had a sardonic air, and I regretted the tone as soon as it left my lips, his narrowing blue eyes and thunderous expression flashing me a warning.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he said coldly. “Perhaps the enormity of the pleasure I’ve bestowed on you since you arrived. Save for a couple of clothespins, I haven’t caused you pain, but that can all change in a heartbeat, Hilary.”

  He took a step back, reaching for my left wrist at the same time, dragging me out of the chair. I fell forward, stumbling in his direction, perilously aware just how naked and vulnerable I was as I brushed against his body.

  “Turn around.” His expression was serious as he gave the order, his right hand signaling for me to spin and face the other direction. It took every ounce of my willpower not to come back with my usual sarcastic type of retort—a witticism about how he could turn around if he wanted to, but I was just fine here. My heart pounded even faster, thanks to the brooding look in his eyes, which persuaded me it would be better to keep my mouth closed and, for once, just do as I was told.

  Pulling in a shaky breath, I turned, my feet cold against the hard floor in only my pantyhose. Standing in the direction he wanted me, I waited, my senses waiting for something—a strike of pain perhaps or another instruction. Inevitably, the bastard made me wait, and it seemed to take forever, standing there in the shadows with only the sound of my hammering heart and the rhythm of his breath at my shoulder.

  “Hands behind your back.”

  As soon as the command came, I knew, with a sinking heart, what it meant—he wanted to bind me again, and this time, he’d ensure my hands were secured behind me. There was a spike of frustrated fear as my wrists slid into position, an odd acceptance of my fate, even though I knew it was inevitable, and everything I had already summated was true. I wouldn’t get away easily. He was too big for me. The place would be crawling with armed men. I was half-naked. Though, as I felt the metal slide across my flesh, none of those excuses seemed to justify my resigned compliance.

  I could do better than this, couldn’t I? Saul would expect me to fight back, wouldn’t he?

  It was too late, and as I heard the metal click into place, a spike of terror rose from my belly. Sean Hyland had just cuffed me, and God only knew what awaited me next.

  “Good girl, Hilary.” His breath was hot against the side of my neck, his tone mocking, but I forced myself to ignore the chiding tone. Sean had cuffed me and demanded not only my capitulation but that I become his wife. However much I loathed the proposition, I needed him in a very tangible way, and if I ever wanted to get out of these cuffs and out of Hyland’s network, I’d have to stay in his good books—for the time being, at least. “I knew you could be obedient if you tried.”

  I turned my head at the sound of his voice, half tantalized, half disturbed.

  Who was this man?

  I knew who he was, of course—the long-lost nephew of Zander Hyland—but what was it about me he found so
fascinating, and what emotions was it I saw burning in those deep blue eyes?

  “I’m scared, Sean.” I risked the confession as his hand slid to the small of my back and guided me toward the door. I was moving toward the object I’d sought the entire time he’d had me tied up here, yet as it approached, the exit loomed with nothing but trepidation. Anything could be on the other side of that door—anything and anyone—and I was still practically naked, breasts jutting out from the underwiring of my defaced bra, my ass on display, save for the tiny thong panties I’d donned at the beginning of the day for Saul.

  “Don’t forget your manners.” Stepping in front of me, he halted my progress, but there was a dark twinkle in his eyes as he responded to my plea.

  “I’m sorry, Sir.” I gulped at the intensity radiating from him, uncertain if it boded well for me. Yes, he had taken me, but it was also true, he hadn’t permitted any actual harm to happen unless you counted the damage to my clothing.

  “Tell me about your fear.” His tone was soft yet demanding, the resonance almost hypnotic as one hand guided me closer to him, and the other caught under my chin.

  Some sane part of my brain wanted to laugh. Tell him about it? Tell him about the terror he had inspired—the whole thing was laughable—but I didn’t chuckle. In fact, I had rarely felt so serious as I absorbed his thoughtful expression. He seemed solemn, genuinely interested in the things that concerned me.

  “Being like this.” I gestured down to my exposed chest. “Anyone could see me when we leave here, Sir.”

  His lips twitched, and for one awful moment, I wondered just what he had in store for me.

  “That’s the point, beautiful.” He trailed one finger along the flesh of my jaw. “I want everyone to see you. I want my men to know the prize I have claimed is not only wonderful but entirely off-limits.”

  My lips parted, though, for a moment, there were no words as the realization of that statement washed over me.

  “You want them to see me?”

  “Yes.” He smiled. “Every fabulous inch of you that’s on display is there for them to ogle. They can look but never touch. You belong to the boss man now.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sean

  THE LOOK ON HER FACE was priceless, worth more than any diamonds or the overpriced artwork strewn on my walls in Nice. There was a flicker of disgust, a response perhaps to the way I viewed her as my property, though that was something little Hilary would have to get used to. Beyond that glimmer, though, there was something else—an unspoken yearning she couldn’t tell me about. Maybe she hadn’t recognized it herself until this very moment, but it was there in her wide-eyed gaze.

  “You have no choice but to trust me.” I stroked the side of her heated cheek, wondering how I’d stumbled into someone so beautiful—so perfect for my wants and needs. I’d always been a lucky son of a bitch, and Hilary only proved just how much. I pressed her closer to my body until her swollen nipples grazed my shirt. “I can be a mean bastard, but I’m not bad to the core.”

  She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, apparently uncertain.

  “I-I don’t know what to say,” she stammered. “One minute, I was living my life, and now this...” Her gaze traveled around the dark space I’d held her in before returning to me. “And now you say I have to marry you?”

  I could hear the edge of defiance in her tone and how hard she fought to resist it. It made me almost proud, knowing she’d tried.

  “Remember my second rule?” I arched an eyebrow.

  “Y-Yes, Sir.”

  “What was it?” I towered over her, expectant at her prompt and polite reply.

  “That I should obey you.”

  “Exactly.” Nodding, I allowed myself to smile. She had been paying attention and did recall. “What I need from you right now—all I need from you—is your obedience and trust. In my experience, one is derived from the other.”

  “But I don’t know you.” Her brows knitted with her emphatic tone. “You’re just some guy from the coffee shop, Sir.”

  I chuckled at her reasoning. Logical it may have been, but it was irrelevant to Hilary at this juncture.

  “Not to you,” I corrected. “Not anymore. I am the most important person in the world. The man who decides where you are and what happens to you there. The one who will decide whether to expose or clothe you. The one who you will look to for everything.”

  She panted as I laid out her fate.

  “And it doesn’t matter what I think about any of it, Sir?” Her shoulders squared back, fury flickering in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter if I don’t want you, don’t want to marry you?”

  “No, it doesn’t matter.” Only her inclusion of my title and her barely polite tone had saved her from experiencing one of my legendary punishments right here, right now. I had a reputation for my no-nonsense approach to both work and play, and Hilary was going to have to toe the line if she didn’t want to learn that lesson. So far, I had been kind, but I could be callous. “You will come around to my way of thinking in the end, and if you behave, I will make sure your compliance is well rewarded.”

  “Like today?” She twisted to glance back at the chair she had been bound to. “Is that what my compliance will buy me?”

  My hand rose into her honeyed locks, my fingers tightening as I drew her focus back in my direction.

  “You only get one warning, little girl, and this is it.” My voice was a deep growl, and her eyes widened like teacups. “That attitude and tone will not get you anywhere with me, so whatever you’ve learned in your life about how to behave, you need to unlearn. I am not some wishy-washy guy like Saul Morrison. I’m a Hyland, and I will not stand for your bullshit.”

  “O-Okay, I’m sorry, Sir.” There was genuine terror in her voice, its tone shaky as she realized the gravity of her situation. She wasn’t only half-naked and bound, she was also pissing off the only person who could offer her protection from the mauling grasp of the men outside, and I had no doubt they would claw to get their mitts on flesh as wonderful as hers. “I just...” she hesitated, her gaze falling as far as my fist would allow.

  “What?” I demanded. “You just what?”

  She pulled in a quivering breath, and I took a moment to enjoy the look of her goosing flesh, the way her nipples beaded into tight little knots, and her flushed expression.

  “I didn’t expect this.” She appealed to me with those large, imploring eyes. “I still don’t know what’s going to happen to me, Sir. I’m...” She bit her lower lip, evidently torn about what to say next.

  “Go on,” I coaxed.

  “I’m afraid,” she barely whispered. “I know what happens to women who get taken by groups like yours. I don’t want to end up like that.”

  Something about her candor spoke to me in a way I rarely experienced. I heard men begging for their lives with dull regularity. Rivals and fools who thought they could play me who always lost, but rarely had I heard such an honest admission from a woman as wonderful as Hilary, and for some reason, her plea worked. It tugged at my heartstrings and made me want to comfort her.

  “You’ll be okay.” I released the fist in her hair, cradling the sides of her face. “If you’re a good girl and do as I say, you’ll be fine. No one else will touch you, and I will treat you well.”

  She batted her lashes at me, her train of thought obvious, even though she was sensible enough not to vocalize it. I would treat her well? The same man who had drugged, bound, and stripped her for mere sport—I was going to do that?

  “Yes, me.” I smiled as I answered her unspoken query. “I’m not always a cruel guy, Hilary. I’m just misunderstood.”

  Her lips twitched at that, but the evident terror in her body refused to allow it to morph into more.

  “Misunderstood, Sir?”

  “That’s right.” Slipping my hands around her body, I held her against me, and for the first time, I noticed how cold she’d become. It was time to wrap this up and get her to my room.
“I won’t ever raise my hand to you in anger or fuck you against your will.” I squeezed the perfect orbs of her arse. “But I will take what belongs to me, Hilary, and right now, that’s you.”

  “Now and forever, Sir.” She murmured the words into my collar bone.

  “What?” I drew back, lifting her chin to hear her more clearly. “What was that?”

  “If we get married, it won’t just be for now.” She shrugged as far as the cuffs would allow. “I would be your wife forever unless you planned to divorce me.”

  “Is that what’s worrying you?” I glanced at her concerned expression and sniggered. It seemed Hilary had the weight of all the world’s troubles on her slim shoulders. If I achieved nothing else with my venture, I would help alleviate that burden. I didn’t know what life had been like as Hyland’s squeeze, but now she was mine, she didn’t have to worry about anything. I would take care of her. I would take care of it all.

  “I have no plans to divorce you,” I assured her. “I’m a serious man, Hilary, and I don’t mention marriage lightly. You will be my wife and have all the respect that comes with that position. We just have to be clear. I am the one who makes the rules in the marriage. You will still call me Sir, and I will still expect your obedience.”

  She gulped at my verdict, and it seemed as though a battle raged inside her. There was clearly a side of Hilary that relished the idea of subservience to me. I had witnessed that when I’d brought her to her soul-shattering climax earlier, but I wasn’t a fool. There were also other parts of her that still wanted to resist—to spit in my face and flee—and those parts needed managing.

  “And what will I do, Sir?” She tilted her head to meet my eyes. “What will I do if I become your wife?”

  “Whatever I tell you.” I grinned at that thought, imaging her bound and semi-naked by my desk every day.