by B. B. Reid
“Why didn’t he pass the torch sooner?”
“Archibald was frivolous.”
“His father didn’t trust him,” she stated bluntly.
“He was right not to. Archibald is responsible for this estate and as beautiful as it is, it plunged this family into a financial hole so deep, Archibald became desperate enough to bribe.”
“He kept jobs out of the book?”
“Only if they could pay the price, but when it wasn’t enough to cover the debt, he tried to sell the book.”
She shifted, and I struggled to ignore what the feel of her ass moving over my cock did to me. “What happened?”
“Alec, my second great-grandfather, found out and confronted him. Archibald had him killed.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered woefully.
I shrugged. Mourning was for those who had something to miss. Blood tied us together not affection. “Adan, his son and my great-grandfather, took his head.” I left out the part about mine now being on the chopping block.
“And then he became the Knight?”
“It’s as you said. Alexander didn’t trust his son. Not only that, but Angelo, Alexander’s brother, wanted his own son to reign. Alexander was too proud to dismiss his heir outright, so they made a pact, and Alexander included a clause in his will. His son would forfeit his place as head of the family, and that right would be transferred to Angelo’s line.”
“Why do all of your names begin with ‘A’ except for Reginald?”
“It’s a tradition started by Alexander. Sort of like branding each firstborn son.”
Her eyebrows pinched together. “What happens if you only have girls?”
“Then power—the legacy—goes to the next eligible heir. For descendants of Meredith and Angelo, the legacy will default back to Alexander’s line.”
I hid my smile when she rolled her eyes. It was a barbaric practice, but Alexander wasn’t a modern man. “As for Reginald’s name, his father wanted nothing to do with family tradition or our business dealings, and neither did his father.”
“So, if Adan hadn’t killed Archibald, wouldn’t this whole Bandit business have died with him?”
I nodded. “Archibald was seventy years old and still in power when Adan killed him. He thought August was too weak, but I believe the truth was he didn’t want to relinquish power. Fortunately, Adan had been well within his rights to kill Archibald and seize the legacy which didn’t August wanted nothing to do with the family business and shielded Andrew from that life as much as he could.”
“But he still named him Andrew…”
“Archibald’s doing,” I muttered. “Andrew shared his father’s sentiments and named his son Reginald.”
“And then there’s Reginald who fell a mile from the tree.” She seemed deep in thought as we shared the silence. “He knows the book is missing, doesn’t he? He’s here to kill you and take back the legacy.”
I still didn’t answer, but my silence was as loud as if I had roared. She shook her head and then dropped the weight on my chest. “I’m scared.”
I stiffened underneath her. Was it possible that little Mian Ross cared for me? I wanted to lift her head and stare into her eyes until I found the truth, but I didn’t. My hands continued to clutch the arms of the chair we shared. I couldn’t promise her nothing would happen to me, but I could make sure she was safe before I took my last breath.
“He’s never going to touch you,” I finally promised.
Her head lifted, and she met my gaze. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Her expression said she wasn’t fooled, so I sighed and said, “I’m taking care of it.”
“I don’t think I can be like you. I can never be comfortable with death.”
“What makes you think I’m comfortable?”
“You kill people and sleep well at night.” The truth wasn’t as black and white as she made it seem.
“I don’t mourn those I kill because if I didn’t mean it, I wouldn’t do it.”
“What about your mother? She just died, and it doesn’t seem to have affected you at all.”
“I lost my mother a long time ago, Mian.” For the sake of not repeating an argument, I left out the fact that I blamed her father.
“So did I,” she whispered. “It’s been nine years, and while time may have numbed the pain, it hasn’t ever gone away.”
“We grieve differently, Sprite.”
“Except you didn’t grieve. You framed my father and ruined my life.” She started to rise from my lap, but a soft touch to her waist, unlike the force she was used to from me, had her freezing in place.
“I’m sorry for what I did to you.”
“But not my father.” It wasn’t a question. I swallowed hard to keep the truth from spilling. I didn’t want to fight with her, especially when my dick grew harder by the second.
“I wish I could be,” I said instead.
She watched me. Her green eyes glowed with hate and disbelief. “I wish I could be sorry too.” I didn’t see it until it was too late. The light caught the metal as she swung the knife, aiming for my throat. I wrenched the knife from her hand and shoved her to the ground. She slid across the floor. I rose from my seat and flung the knife out of reach as I stalked after her.
“Are you completely unconcerned with keeping your life?”
She smirked, the bitch. “You’re not going to kill me.”
“No, baby, I’m not going to kill you.” She started to rise from the floor. I quickly wrapped my fingers around her arm. “But I am going to fuck you.” She didn’t get the chance to struggle before I lifted her on the table. Mian made a lovely centerpiece.
She watched, frozen and fascinated, as I removed my shirt. Her gaze was stuck on my bare chest, so she didn’t notice when I joined her on the table. It wasn’t until I tugged that she realized where we were headed. “You think sex is the answer for everything,” she griped. “It won’t keep me from killing you.”
“It will keep me from killing you.” I needed to be inside her. It was the only way we could be free of hate without destroying each other. Besides…it wasn’t fear that made her body tremble as I pushed her flat on her back.
She needed it too.
She didn’t fight me as I finished removing her clothes. Didn’t protest when my lips touched her hot skin. She didn’t even try to pretend she didn’t want it.
“That’s the second time you tried to kill me.” I kissed down her stomach.
“If you’re not careful, it’ll become a habit,” she breathed. Her body jerked as if shocked by electricity when I licked the skin just above her pussy. Only Mian could threaten me and come apart for me simultaneously. God was feeling pretty self-indulgent the day he created her, and he secured my rightful place in hell when he placed her in my path. “I’m not afraid of you, Angel Knight.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” I yanked her panties down her slender legs and stuffed them in my back pocket. “But you should be afraid of what you’ll become without me.”
She gasped and shivered when my mouth hovered over her sex, and I inhaled her scent. Suddenly, I didn’t want to breathe again unless it was her essence that filled my body with life.
“We aren’t enemies.” I placed a soft kiss upon her sex, and she jerked again in my arms. “That will never be us again.” I crawled up her supple body and settled between her legs. “It’s time you understood,” I slid inside her slowly, “just how permanent we are.” She sucked in a breath and held it. The monster prowling beneath my surface snapped at my restraint, challenging me to release it or to be forever ruined. “I need you, Mian.” I slowly moved inside her. “Say you believe me.”
Slowly, oh so slowly, she released the air she’d trapped. “I believe you,” she admitted breathlessly. A smile of triumph teased my lips. Instead, I kissed her bare shoulder, rewarding her rather than gloating. I felt her soft hands run through my hair and then tug on the strands until our gazes were locke
d. “I just don’t care.”
Her gaze was both wary and defiant, expecting retaliation but refusing to fear it. Three years ago, I would have relished her fear because I couldn’t have anything else.
But this wasn’t three years ago, and she was no longer forbidden.
She was mine.
To have, to hold, and to ruin.
I kissed the generous slope of her breasts and watched her nipple harden. “I don’t believe you.” She cared. More than what was right. More than she would ever admit. She cared. She would always care because I belonged to her. That would never change.
“I don’t care.” Her voice broke when I shifted, brushing against her clit. I lifted her left leg over my shoulder and slid deeper.
“I don’t believe you,” I repeated unsteadily, my voice as unreliable as hers.
Her lashes lowered, shutting in the emotion she didn’t want me to see. “I don’t care.”
“I don’t believe you,” I bit out slowly this time. The rabid beast I held at bay pulled at the restraints now, no longer willing to be caged. It wanted to claim her, make her bend to its will. I wanted to give her passion and leave fear in the past.
“I don’t care,” she shouted—not convincingly—at the filigree ceiling. I pumped into her, fucking her harder now. Faster. I was doing my duty while the Knights who ruled before me watched.
“You do care.” I gripped her harder than I should have. My hands would no doubt bruise her soft skin with my mark and damn if that didn’t just make me fuck her harder. “You care so fucking much you’d risk your own life just to prove yourself wrong.” She pressed her lips tight, cutting off the sob before it could release. The next moment, she was shoving me away and crawling backward across the table to put space between us. I could feel her arousal coating my dick as I tucked myself back into my pants and slid from the tabletop.
“What do you want from me if not my life? A possession? I won’t be your trophy,” she vowed before I could answer. “I’ll never stop fighting to get away from you.”
I didn’t want to own her or strip away her most beautiful parts.
I wanted to protect her.
Nurture her.
Keep her, the beast hissed.
“Stay.” It took everything I had left not to close the distance between us. “I just want you to stay.”
“I’ll try on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“There was a couple who took me in back in Mosset where Lucas and Z found me. When you led the senator to me, Becky got hurt. I don’t know if she’s alive and I—”
“Consider it done.”
“But I didn’t tell you what I wanted.”
“I don’t just know what’s in your head, Mian. I also know what’s in your heart.”
Chapter Seventeen
MIAN
I WALKED BAREFOOT down a rose-lined path, inching nearer and nearer to the end. Sunshine brighter than I’d ever witnessed surrounded me and warmed my blood. Birds with feathers the color of spring sang and danced around me, but instead of a happy, musical lilt, they screamed at me to turn back. Flee.
I wanted to.
But Angel’s promise of beauty and pleasure pulled me closer to my doom.
“When you retreat inside your head, you let down your guard, and I can see everything you’re thinking.” He trailed a wet finger across my forehead, smoothing the frown lines before pulling away.
“What am I thinking?” I challenged. I was sitting in his lap, my back to his chest as we soaked our tired bones in the white marble tub. I committed to memory the hand painted walls, marble floors, and the skylight above us because no matter what Angel threatened, this was temporary.
“You’re thinking marriage to me is all you’ve ever wanted after all.” I chanced a peek over my shoulder. His smile was quick and full of charm, but I wasn’t so easily fooled. Not anymore.
“Not even close.” I pinched his cheek and shook his face. “But you’re cute when you dream.”
He snatched his face away and quickly captured my fingers between his teeth. I yelped and scrambled away. Water sloshed over the rim of the tub and onto the marble. The predatory light in his eyes as I settled on the opposite side was a warning. I could catch you whenever I want. My fingers where he bit me throbbed. I glared. He smiled.
“You should keep your mouth to yourself.”
The cocky bastard slid lower until he was lounging with one leg planted and his toes brushing my hip. I almost jerked away, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“But it’s my favorite way to make you come.”
My clit pulsed, and I wanted his teeth sinking into my thigh just before his tongue lapped up proof that I wanted him. My two-timing cunt always gave away my secrets.
“The water is getting cold,” I said dismissively.
After an uncomfortable moment of staring he rose from the tub, dripping with lavender soap and water. It was glorious and gaudy, and it made me want to use my tongue to trace every path the water took until he was completely dry.
If he noticed my staring, he didn’t let on as he helped me out and handed me a towel.
Back in the bedroom, he dug through my bag and handed me a pair of my jeans and a shirt before dressing himself in dark jeans and white Henley. I followed him with his hand on the small of my waist down the wide hall until we reached the same room I had found this morning.
I could hear Caylen’s laugh on the other side of the door and didn’t wait for permission or for Angel to open the door. I pushed inside and felt Angel’s hovering as he stood behind me.
Lucas and Z, crouching on their haunches in the middle of the room, hadn’t seemed to notice us. Their attention was too focused on my son standing between them as he nibbled and drooled on his fist. “Come on, little man.” Caylen grinned at Z. “You can say it.”
My head cocked, wondering exactly what he wanted him to say.
“Say Daddy,” Lucas gently demanded a moment later.
Angel swore though it sounded as if it were covering up a laugh.
Z frowned. “Do you think he won’t say it because he knows we’re not his father?”
I’d had enough. “What the fuck is going on here?”
Lucas and Z rose to their full height. Z tossed me an apologetic look while Lucas grinned and shrugged. Caylen noticed me and wobbled toward me as fast as his baby legs would allow.
“Mama.”
“Oh, sure,” Lucas drawled. “That he will say.”
“Mama’s boy,” Z coughed. I picked my son up and glared at Angel’s idiotic friends.
“What the hell is your problem? Why would you do that?”
“We thought we might help.”
“His father doesn’t even want him.” Their gazes lifted over my head and their smiles brightened.
“Well, we figured with the marriage and all—” My growl was more than enough to keep Z from finishing that sentence.
“Stay away from my son.” I turned to leave and glared at their leader when he didn’t move. Wordlessly, he stepped aside. I met his gaze as I passed him, but his expression was unreadable, so I fixed my attention on Caylen.
“Did those bad men try to confuse you?”
He giggled and waved at them over my shoulder.
I was seething as their laughter followed me down the hall. This place was easy to get lost in, and with Angel’s family in residence, I didn’t want to chance running into any of them.
Especially his cousin.
According to Angel, he was greedy and desperate, and if what he told me about his family was true, then it was enough for me to believe him.
The library was the easiest to find, so I figured it was as good a hiding place as any. Caylen started to become restless without Lucas and Z to entertain him, so I skimmed the unending sea of spines until I found what I was looking for. Reading to him before his nap felt too normal for the situation we were in now. This wasn’t our home, and we weren’t a family,
but Angel was committed to pretending.
When Caylen’s eyes finally drifted shut halfway through the story, I laid him on the black love seat with gold trimming and covered him with a soft bronze throw that looked like it was purely for show.
My gaze was on the fire burning in the fireplace when the door opened. I didn’t bother lifting my gaze from the flames when I said, “I thought you’d be busy playing criminal mastermind with your bonehead playmates.”
A chuckle that wasn’t rich and deep answered me. “I’ve become much too old for playmates, my dear.” Reginald strolled inside with his hands casually resting in the pockets of his burgundy pants. “We haven’t been properly introduced.”
“I think we know enough actually. You’re Angel’s shady cousin, and I’m his unwilling wife.”
I could tell I had said too much when his eyes lit with curiosity. “And what about this marriage makes you unwilling? I noticed my young cousin didn’t shower that delicate finger of your left hand with diamonds.”
Angel had warned me that Reginald couldn’t be trusted, and at the first opportunity, I offered him our secrets on a platter. “Did I say unwilling? I meant devoted.”
“I’m sure you did.” I moved closer to my son with each step he took. “I was mistaken by your display earlier.”
“How so?”
“I didn’t peg you for the type to be trained.”
“You think loyalty makes me a pet?”
“I think blind loyalty makes you a fool.”
“And what exactly makes me blind?”
“My cousin is young, and at times, a bit too merciful, but he is also clever.”
“What makes him clever?”
“His ability to make anyone believe what he wants.” He studied me. “I assume he’s told you not to trust me.”
“I’m curious why it matters to you if I trust you or not. We’re perfect strangers.”
“With a common problem,” he added. He took my silence as an invitation to continue. “When I take back what belongs to me, I don’t want there to be any hard feelings. In fact, I have a proposition for you.”
