Wine and Whiskey (Surviving Absolution #1)
Page 12
She nods and grips him tighter as the thrusts into her. He forces himself to hold back, afraid the ferocity of his passion will be too rough for her. But her hips lift up, encouraging, urging him farther inside. Already on the edge, he responds to her request by driving deeper and harder, making her moans vibrate against his neck.
As her breath quickens, he can’t hold back any longer. “Say it, Shae. Say that you know I love you.”
“I know you love me.” She cries out his name, and he explodes inside her.
Only a few minutes pass before she drifts off. He should sleep too. Exhausted from last night—too restless to do anything but work and think about how he screwed things up with her, he never even laid down. It would be so easy to let go with this beautiful angel curled next to him, his arm tingling from her sweet head resting on his bicep, his chest blazing from the silky skin of her bare back pressed against him. But he can’t. Not when he’s going to be away from her for so long.
Before he leaves, he needs to soak up every bit of her. Enjoy the sunlight streaming through the windows, making her skin glow even more if that’s possible, her dark lashes contrasting with the pinkness of her cheeks. Not that he needs to memorize her face. It’s always in his mind whenever he closes his eye. Never out of his thoughts when he’s awake.
He fights against the desire to cancel his trip, to stay home and bury himself inside her softness again. But, the need to destroy Juan overrides his temptation. Now that Juan’s back in the States, his time is up. The stupid attempt to overtake one of Nick’s smaller territories was annoying enough. Scaring her at the coffee house finalizes his death sentence. Anger rolls through him at her gasp from that idiot trying to touch her. No. Any leniency for him ended with her fear.
She sighs and twitches from his body tensing. Damn. He needs to calm down and not let her wake up to his fury. He presses his cheek against hers, and she stills. Her soft breathing returns, reminding him she trusts him, feels safe with him. He’ll never do anything to let her think otherwise.
About an hour later, her eyes flutter open, and she smiles at his kiss on her shoulder. “Good afternoon, sweetness.”
A few seconds pass before she realizes the meaning of his words and tries to sit up, the sheet falling to her waist. “Afternoon? You’ve missed your flight!”
He laughs and pulls her back to face him, using every ounce of willpower to ignore her pink nipples hardening from the sudden exposure to cool air. “It’s my plane. They can’t leave without me.”
Her sweet giggle fills the room as she shakes her head. “Well, now you’re just showing off.”
“I have to prove I’m not the deadbeat Carrie thinks I am.” He runs his finger down her temple to her chin, her huge smile making it almost impossible to think of anything but rolling her onto her back again. “I’ll be home on Saturday. Do you still want to go to the gala with me?”
“Yes, it’s important to me too.” She pulls the sheet over her shoulder before snuggling against him. “I wish you didn’t have to go. I’m going to miss you.”
God damn! She fucking owns me when she says shit like that. He lifts up to continue what she started, but her hand pressing against his cheek stops him. She bites her lip before looking away. “I’m sorry about earlier. I’m just scared…”
His heart pounds against his rib cage. Guilt threads through her voice unaware it’s him who should apologize. For having such a dangerous life he must protect her from, forcing him to hide who he really is. “I’ve always been honest with you. There are just some things I can’t talk about.” He lifts her chin so their eyes meet, and she can see the truth in his. “I love you, and when I get back, I’m going to make it up to you for being gone.”
She smiles, her gaze proclaiming her love even if her words don’t. “I like that, but maybe you can give me a little preview before you leave.”
Her giggle tickles his ear as he trails his hand down her curves before grasping her hip and pulling her against him.
* * * *
She opens her front door, excited about finally seeing Nick. His calls and texts, romantic and mysterious, with hints of a surprise for her, were not enough to keep her from longing for tonight. To stifle her craving for his sexy smile, his gentle touch, his chiseled chest concealed under his tuxedo.
Her smile fades at Jacks standing on her porch, her stomach dropping at his disheveled appearance. Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead as watery trails run down his temples to his sideburns, highlighting his ashen skin. Bent at the waist, his left hand remains inside his unbuttoned jacket. “Oh, Jacks. Are you okay?”
He nods and swallows hard, as if speaking taxes his energy. “Nick’s plane was delayed, so he’s going to meet you at the gala. Are you ready to go?”
“I’m sorry, but you look like you feel awful. Why don’t you go home? You need to take care of yourself.” She pats his arm, the trembling visible through his coat. He must have fever. “I really don’t mind driving myself.”
“Please, Shae. Just get in the car.”
A whisper of fear flitters in her stomach at the hardness of his tone. She turns back to him, his weak smile softening the insistence of his request, his eyes locking with hers pleading for her to agree. “Okay, Jacks. I’ll let you drive me.”
Stepping into the limo, she scans his pale face. Instead of sick, he seems almost afraid. After he pushes the door shut, the locks immediately click.
“Good evening, Miss Armstrong.”
The whisper turns into a roar. Juan Rosalez sits across from her, a smirk curling on his lips. Her view out the side window is even worse as Jacks drops to his knees, his hand covered in blood.
Shae's hand presses against the glass, the cold surface unable to cool the fear blazing through her body. Jacks remains motionless, a crimson puddle staining the pavement around him, as the limo drives away. She swallows hard before turning back to the man who sits across from her, yet her voice still wobbles. “What did you do to him?”
Juan shakes his head and tsks in disapproval, as if Jacks himself is to blame for the injuries inflicted upon him. “He wasn’t very agreeable to arranging this meeting for me. I gave him a little demonstration of what would happen to you if he didn’t cooperate.” A smirk curls on his lips, taking satisfaction in his cruel cleverness. “Funny thing—after our discussion, he changed his mind rather quickly.”
His unconcerned demeanor is a disturbing contrast to the brutality he imposes, no different than if he was chatting about the weather or what to eat for dinner. Fear as heavy as an elephant weighs on her chest, making it almost impossible to catch her breath. “We can’t leave him like that. Please let me call an ambulance for him.”
“He’s a tough guy. He’ll be fine.”
Ignoring the irritation tingeing his voice, she digs in her clutch for her phone. Protecting her leaves Jacks injured and abandoned. She must help him, even if Juan refuses. Just as her fingers brush the case, he yanks the purse out of her shaking hands, slamming it down on the seat next to him. “You’re as stubborn as your boyfriend, aren’t you?”
Nick.
The roaring in her head dampens every other sound in the car except her gasp of breath trying to recover the oxygen evaporating from her lungs. In the midst of the turmoil, her racing mind stills, all of her hesitation and doubt about him and his life fade away in fear for his safety. A single thought fills her consciousness, her only certainty about him confirmed.
She loves him. Being incapable of telling him doesn’t make it any less true. She loves Nick, and he has to be okay. “Where is he? Did you hurt him too?”
“No.” His eyebrows lift as he tilts his head. “But I will, if you won’t help me.”
Her hands relax from clutching her dress. She can get through this knowing he’s safe, do anything she has to do, say whatever needs to be said, to get away from Juan and back to Nick.
His expression hardens, a snarl darkening his face. “His little business trip this week destroyed a
lot of my hard work. Now, I’ve put a new plan in place, and that’s where you come in. I need you to convince him to work with me.”
A few weeks ago, her life was already surreal, singing on stage in front of twenty thousand cheering fans. Now, she negotiates with a mad man for Nick’s life, her only bargaining chip an alliance he refuses to create. She can’t think about that now. Playing along saves both of them. Using all of her acting skills, she nods and wills her voice to sound confident. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.”
Juan shakes his head. “Now, Miss Armstrong, I appreciate your eagerness to agree. However, you’ll forgive me if I doubt your sincerity. You don’t seem to fully realize the commitment you’re making.” He points to her, the smirk back in position. “If you fail, you’ll be the one to pay the price. Are you willing to make that sacrifice? Trade your life for his?”
He leans back, draping his arm across the seat back, tapping his fingers against the smooth leather. The buzzing of her cell interrupts their conversation. Winking at her, he lifts the clasp of her bag and pulls out the phone. He rubs his knuckle across the screen and smiles at her. “Isn’t that sweet? Nick’s looking for you.”
Her brave façade cracks at hearing his name again, uncertain if he knows she’s trapped with his enemy, unaware how much she needs him to find her.
The passenger in the front seat looks back at Juan. “We’re almost there, boss.”
He talks to his gunman, but locks eyes with her. She presses back against the seat, trying to escape from his gaze burning into her, pinning her with his threats. “He’ll be waiting outside the hotel for his lovely friend. You’ll only get one shot, so don’t fuck it up.”
The man nods and reaches toward the floor. A shudder rocks her body at the rifle he raises up, his fingers mesmerizing her as they adjust the mechanisms to take aim. For a perfect shot at Nick. She licks her lips, trying to force her mouth to work. “I’ll do it. I promise. I’ll make him agree.”
He ignores her pledge, his smile growing bigger. “Might as well hit big Max too. Wipe that fucking smug ass expression off his face. Then, we’ll find Carter and maybe even that senile old housekeeper of his. What’s her name again?” He taps his fingertip against his temple, feigning uncertainty. “Marta, is it?”
Sparks burst in front of her eyes, distorting her vision. The man she loves and the people closest to him are all in danger. She takes a deep breath, fighting to keep from being pulled under. Beads of sweat roll down her back. She has to make this stop. “Juan, please—”
Her phone continues to chirp, Nick insistent on reaching her. All of her hopes of him rescuing her brushed aside, replaced by desperation for him to be anywhere but the gala.
“It would be much easier to join forces, but that’s only possible with your help. I can either kill him, or you can persuade him a partnership would be in his best interest.” He spreads his hands out in front of him. “It’s up to you.”
The driver slows and the gunman lowers his window a few inches before lifting the gun into place. His finger pulses on the trigger, waiting for the opportune moment to take his shot.
She holds back the scream welling in her chest. “Don’t! I swear I’ll do it!”
Juan shrugs his shoulders, unconvinced. She leans forward, falling on her knees, shaking his forearms. Her voice strangled in fear, she can only whisper, “Please stop him. I’ll help you. I mean it.”
The smirk returns. Juan raises his hand and snaps his finger, causing the bodyguard to lower the rifle. “Good choice. Nick's a very lucky man.”
Her head droops forward as she takes a deep, shaky breath. Nick’s safe. All that matters is that the threat is over. With wobbly legs, she starts to sit back on the seat. Juan grabs her shoulders, making her wince at the pain of his fingers crushing her bones. “See how persuasive you can be? You better be that convincing to Nick, because next time, I won’t call it off.”
He shoves her backward before tipping his head, as if he’s gracious enough not to hurt her any more than he already has. Sliding her phone into her purse, he hands it back to her. They drive under the canopy of a skyscraper hotel, iridescent blue lights glowing across the facade. Photographers and fans line the entranceway.
Juan smoothes the sleeves of his jacket, wrinkled from her begging grip. “Ready?”
Her mouth too dry to speak, she nods and rubs her hands down her bare arms, trying to ease the burn from his fingertips pinching her skin.
“I’ll escort you out. Make sure you smile pretty for the cameras.”
The driver opens the door and Juan climbs out, offering his hand to her with a chivalrous flourish. She swallows down the lump in her throat and accepts his assistance. Flashbulbs light up the driveway like the Fourth of July as she steps out of the limo. She tries to slide her hand out of his, but he tightens his grip, his fingernails digging into her skin.
People and voices blur together. Over here! Shae! Who are you wearing? Who are you with? Shae! But she seeks only one face in the crowd. An involuntary sob escapes as their eyes meet. Nick’s body radiates with anger, his jaw clenched so tight his cheek twitches.
Juan’s hot breath on her skin turns her stomach as he whispers in her ear, “Don’t make a scene. Your public is watching.”
She nods her head.
Suddenly, Nick’s arm wraps around her waist, pulling her out of Juan’s grasp. He slides her behind him, and Max’s hand presses against her back. “You son of a bitch.” Nick tips his head towards Juan, his voice unrecognizable in its fury. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Finally safe between them, the adrenaline keeping her going fades, and her knees buckle. Max’s hold around her tightens as she leans against his chest, and he helps her into the lobby. Two autograph seekers follow them inside.
“Shae! I’m a huge fan. Can I have your autograph?” A young woman in a pink and white polka dot dress shoves a notepad and pen in front of her. With a shaky hand, Shae scrawls an illegible signature. The girls shriek as a hotel security guard arrives and attempts to guide them away.
Polite but firm, Max dismisses them. “Thank you, ladies. But Miss Armstrong is late for an event.”
As they cross to the other side of the lobby, Nick reaches them and his hands cup her face, his eyes searching hers, searing her with his intensity. “Are you okay?”
She nods, anxious to learn about Juan’s other victim. “What about Jacks? When we drove away, he was lying in the road.”
“Max’s guys are taking care of him. He’ll be all right.” He runs his hands across her shoulders and down her arms, making her flinch as he touches her raw skin. His fingertips trace the pink marks, his face white with rage, his teeth clenched together. “He fucking hurt you.”
Max steps closer to them. “We need to get her out of here. I don’t trust Juan and his guys not to try something else.”
Nick leads her down the corridor with Max following behind. She can barely keep up with his long, quick strides, his fingers curling into a fist against her rib cage. Walking out of her heels, she stumbles. “Nick, please slow down. You’re frightening me.”
He stoops down and slips his finger through the straps. Looking around, he guides her to a door marked Authorized Personnel Only and shoves it open. Once inside, he drops her shoes, the rhinestones scraping against the tile floor. He envelops her in his arms so tightly she can’t tell where her trembling from fear ends and his shaking from anger begins. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe I let Juan get to you.”
A silver cart stacked with eight trays of dinner salads sits next to a stainless steel counter covered with baskets of rolls. Clinking silverware and muted voices drift down the hallway. A man in a red jacket and black pants opens the door and reaches for the handle. His eyes widen at them standing in the restricted area.
Nick presses her against the wall and lays his cheek against hers, blocking her face from the waiter’s view. He whispers in her ear, “I don’t want to give him anything to gossip about.”
“He said if I didn’t promise to convince you to work with him he would…” Her voice catches in her throat. The gravity of his threats even more ruthless when saying them out loud. “His bodyguard was going to shoot you as we pulled up to the hotel if I didn’t agree. And, if I failed, he would kill me.”
His body stiffens. Shivers trail down her body at the dark expression crossing his face. A stranger stands in front of her. The Nick she knows and loves replaced by a man engulfed with anger and vengeance. She caresses his cheek and meets his gaze, trying to bring him back from the fury gripping him. “Nick? It’s over. I’m fine.”
He blinks, almost in surprise, as if she hasn’t been here all along. “I’ll have Max get the car, and we’ll go home.”
Home. A word meant to invoke feelings of peace and relaxation, a sanctuary from the outside world. Tonight, however, it means a boys’ club intent on exacting revenge. Her stomach clenches at the realization of what this man and his life are all about. He will soothe her and make her feel safe before relegating her to the cinema room or deck while he holes up in his office with Max and Carter, the three men plotting retaliation against Juan and his threats.
Her head swims from the surge of emotions invading her mind and heart. If she can keep Nick here, focused on something other than revenge, maybe she can prevent the battle from turning into a war. This glimmer of hope buoys her enough to mask her feelings and try to get back the Nick she loves. She takes a deep breath and smiles at him. “What about the gala? You can’t miss it. It’s important to you.”