Mine To Take (Nine Circles)

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Mine To Take (Nine Circles) Page 26

by Jackie Ashenden


  His fingers pressed into her hip. Hard. His eyes had gone black, an intense, crushing darkness. “I know, Honor. I know it’s him.”

  I will make him suffer …

  “You can’t—”

  “He took her future away from her. She wanted to be a nurse, did you know that? She wanted to go to college. Get a good job. She came here with so many fucking hopes and he took them all away from her.” His voice was low, savage with anger. “The prick ruined her life. He destroyed it. I destroyed it.” He took a harsh breath. “And this is the only way I can fix it.”

  Her heart raced, adrenaline pumping so hard through her she could barely get her lungs to work. She couldn’t seem to stop shaking, the icy chill of the room freezing her. But the look in Gabriel’s eyes was hot. A volcanic rage she’d only caught glimpses of. A rage she could feel humming through him like electricity through high-tension wires.

  He wanted to fix things. Like she’d spent her life trying to fix things.

  Things that couldn’t be fixed.

  She ached for him. For the pain and the rage that burned in him. For the burden he must be carrying. But … this was Guy. And he had no proof.

  “I know what you feel you have to do,” she said, trying to stop her teeth from chattering. “But you must have proof, Gabriel. You have to be sure.”

  “I am fucking sure!”

  “Guy would never hurt anyone. You have to believe me, he wouldn’t. I know him and he hasn’t got a violent bone in his body.”

  Contempt twisted his features. “What the hell would you know? He’s been laundering money for God knows how long and no one was any the wiser. He could have raped hundreds of women and you’d never know.”

  “But there could have been—”

  “Mom was raped by the owner of that hotel. She told me. And Tremain was the owner. His name was on the check that he gave her.” Rage burned in Gabriel’s eyes. “That motherfucker raped her then thought he could buy her off with money.” The way he said the word made it sound dirty. “Do you know what it’s like when your own mother looks at you with fear? Knowing that she doesn’t see her child in your face but the man who hurt her? Can you ever possibly know what it’s like to understand you’re the reason she’s in this mess? That you’re the reason her life turned to shit? And there’s nothing you can do about it?”

  There was so much fury in his eyes. So much pain. She could see it burning bright beneath the blackness, beneath the cold.

  “She couldn’t do anything to that bastard,” Gabriel said in a savage voice. “But I can. And I will.”

  She wanted to hold him. Wanted to do something for him. Drain all that pain and fury. But when she lifted her icy hands to his face, he said, “Don’t touch me. If you know what’s good for you, you’d get as far away from me as you could.”

  “Gabriel,” she began but he put her off the bike. Zipped up his jacket. Put on the helmet that sat on the back and pressed a button on his key ring that opened the doors to the garage. Then he gunned the bike, the garage roaring with the sound of the engine and the screech of tires as he took off into the night.

  There was nothing else she could do but turn around and make her way back upstairs.

  Shivering, she pulled a woolen throw from the couch and wrapped herself up in it, sitting down in one of the armchairs. The darkness and the silence enveloped her, the warmth of the central heating beginning to take the chill from her skin.

  But nothing could take the chill from her heart.

  She’d never seen a man so angry. Or in so much pain.

  And apparently Guy was the cause. Guy was Gabriel’s father, or so he believed.

  Guy was a rapist.

  Honor bent and pressed the heels of her hands over her eyes.

  “Do you know what it’s like when your own mother looks at you with fear?”

  That happened to him. She’d seen her rapist in her son. Oh, God, no wonder he’d said he’d felt responsible for his mother’s guilt and shame. In his mind, he was.

  A lump rose in Honor’s throat. She should do what Gabriel had told her. Leave. Get out while she still could. Go and see Guy. Warn him maybe. Because she couldn’t believe he’d done what Gabriel had accused him of. She just … couldn’t.

  But … she couldn’t leave Gabriel, not when he was hurting like he was.

  You know what this means.

  Of course she did. If she was giving up the man she considered her father for him, it meant she was hooked. And it was too late to protect herself. Too late to save herself. She was in deep and there was no escaping.

  Her throat ached. Her chest tightening as the truth of her feelings sank deep inside her. This was the ruin she’d feared because there was no way he felt the same about her. She didn’t even know if he was capable of it. Yet she wasn’t going to let that minor detail get in the way.

  No matter how much he tried to deny it, Gabriel had no one else. Only her.

  “I’m the reason her life turned to shit…”

  He blamed himself. It wasn’t his fault and yet he took the responsibility for his mother’s life all the same. Because that’s what he did. He shouldered the burdens that were too heavy for other people. He took the responsibility for things no one else wanted.

  Why? Did he think there was no one else to help? Did he think he was alone?

  Tears prickled. Because she knew the answer to that already.

  “Not anymore, Gabriel,” she whispered into the darkness. “You’re not alone anymore.”

  Slowly, she lifted her head and wiped her eyes. Then she pulled the blanket around her even more tightly and sat back in the armchair to wait.

  * * *

  Honor opened her eyes abruptly knowing something had changed.

  She was still sitting in the armchair in Gabriel’s apartment and it was still dark. But now a tall, powerful figure stood in front of her. Her heart began to thump painfully hard in her chest, even though she knew who it was. There was a chill in the air and she could taste snow at the back of her throat. He’d brought the winter back inside with him.

  Good thing she was warm.

  He said nothing, and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking because the darkness hid his face.

  It didn’t matter anyway. She was here, that was all that mattered.

  Honor threw aside her blanket. And opened her arms.

  He didn’t move for a long moment and she could hear his breathing, fast, labored. Then, slowly, like a tree falling, he dropped to his knees in front of her and leaned forward, his arms coming around her waist, a vise holding her tight, turning his face against her stomach.

  She put her arms around him, folded herself over him. He was so cold and she could feel tremors running through the big body kneeling in front of her.

  She said nothing because this went deeper than words. This was where only silence and warmth could help. The physical warmth of another person to remind him he wasn’t alone. That he wasn’t as isolated as he seemed to think he was.

  That she was here for him.

  And he took what she offered, his breath hot on the bare skin of her stomach, holding her so tight, the tremors slowly fading. But not the tension. That remained.

  Honor ran a hand down his leather-clad back then laid her cheek on his shoulder. He smelled of leather and snow. Cold wind and loneliness. She closed her eyes, letting her body heat into him, melting away that cold and tension.

  She didn’t know how long he stayed like that, kneeling at her feet, holding onto her so tightly it was like he was afraid she’d disappear. Eventually she felt the muscles of his back flex, his body shifting. She eased away to give him some room.

  But he wasn’t leaving. His fingers slid around her wrists, holding them tightly down on either side of her thighs. Then he lifted his head slightly, hot breath passing over the sensitive skin of her stomach. “You stayed.” His voice was dark, rough, possessive. “That makes you mine.”

  “Yes.” There was no point disag
reeing. This was what she’d stayed for. This was what she was giving him. Besides, she’d been his from the moment she’d first laid eyes on him.

  His mouth brushed her stomach and it was her turn to shiver, aching physical awareness rushing over her. She was still naked and the arousal of earlier in the evening was still there, pulsing beneath the surface of her skin.

  “I want everything,” Gabriel murmured, the dark, rough note in his voice making her heart beat faster. Making the ache inside her more acute. “Give me everything, Honor.”

  She closed her eyes again. “Yes. It’s yours.”

  The brush of his mouth against her inner thighs, hot kisses that had her catching her breath. Her muscles went tight as his mouth moved higher, between her legs, nuzzling her. She inhaled sharply. Only to have him pull back, releasing her wrists.

  “Gabriel…”

  Carefully, he slid a hand behind her knee and lifted one leg, then the other, over the arms of the chair, spreading her wide. Then he leaned forward, his big, muscular body pinning her, trapping her in the chair.

  Not that she cared. She didn’t want to move anyway. Her breathing had accelerated and when he bent his head, covering her sex with his mouth, she didn’t hold back the sound he brought from her. A choked cry. She put her hands in his hair, curling her fingers tight as he licked her like he had all the time in the world. Long slow licks that had her gasping and arching back.

  “Watch,” he growled against her skin. “I want you to watch.”

  She obeyed without thought, looking down, meeting his black eyes. And she kept looking as he lowered his head again, watching his mouth move on her slick flesh, tasting her. It was unbearably erotic seeing her legs spread wide over the arms of the chair, his blond head between them. It was almost too much but she’d promised she’d give him everything. And she would.

  His tongue pushed into her, deep and slow and she panted, crying out, her gaze pinned to him and what he was doing to her.

  The orgasm gathered tightly inside her, a hard, aching knot of sensation that felt impossible to contain. He didn’t wait, giving her another lick that sent her over the edge, shuddering and calling his name as the climax rushed through her.

  He didn’t give her more than a couple of seconds of respite. Kneeling upright, he grasped her, pulling her off the chair, taking her down to the floor, the silk Persian rug that covered the floorboards soft against her back. Then he shrugged off his jacket, tore open his jeans, found a condom from his back pocket, and protected himself. Settling between her legs, he thrust inside her, a hard, deep movement that had her gasping, her sensitive flesh stretching almost unbearably.

  Then he stopped, deep inside her. His arms slid around her and he gathered her close, sitting up so she was in his lap, facing him, his dark eyes mere inches away.

  “Gabriel…” she murmured, his name like a prayer.

  His hands slid up her back, arching her forward so her breasts were thrust high. Then, keeping one arm around her, he stroked her side, cupping one breast, teasing her nipple with his thumb as he began to move again, rocking gently.

  “Mine,” he whispered, that hand running all over her, stroking, teasing. Light and gentle. “You’re all mine. Say it, Honor. Say the words.”

  “I’m yours,” she gasped out, her hands on his shoulders, nails digging in. Giving him exactly what he wanted. What she’d promised him she’d give. “I’m all yours, Gabriel.”

  “And you’re going to stay mine. Aren’t you? You’re going to stay and never leave.”

  She gave him the promise without a thought. “N-no … never.”

  His movements began to get faster, harder. The darkness in his eyes became all-encompassing, swallowing everything.

  He’ll ruin you. Destroy you.

  The thought flashed bright in her brain then was gone. Perhaps she wanted to be ruined. There were worse ways to go, after all.

  His fingers slid into her hair, the strands gripped tight in his fist. Pain prickled over her scalp but she welcomed it. Embraced it. Let herself be overwhelmed totally by it. And when his mouth claimed hers, she opened to him.

  She was surrounded by him. His taste, his scent, the heat of him inside her, around her. And she let it happen. Because she’d promised she’d give him everything and she did. No holding back.

  She wanted to give him this. It was all she had. Because she didn’t think he’d accept anything else.

  When the climax came he was kissing her and she screamed against his mouth, pleasure cascading through her, sharp and intense. Bright and powerful.

  And then she felt him shudder, too, his breathing harsh and ragged as he turned his face into her neck, his arms like steel around her.

  There was no escaping this.

  She was his. Irrevocably.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Honor was trembling in his arms but he wasn’t going to let her go. He’d told her everything and she was still here. Which made her his.

  Not quite everything.

  No, not that he’d purposefully gotten close to her because of her relationship to Tremain, but she didn’t need to know that. Perhaps she’d never need to know that. But all the rest …

  She knew now exactly what she was dealing with. The kind of man he was and what he wanted. His justice. And maybe he shouldn’t have told her. Maybe in doing so he’d relinquished a little bit of his power, but shit, it was too late now.

  He was just so fucking tired of carrying the weight of that burden by himself.

  Honor’s head had dropped onto his shoulder, the softness of her breathing against his throat. She was curled into him, her arms around him, all softness and warmth and silky pale skin.

  Christ, the moment he’d come back from his ride and found her sitting there in the armchair had knocked the breath from his body.

  He’d thought she would have left. Fuck, after everything he’d dumped on her, he was sure he’d come back to an empty apartment. But no. She’d been there. Nestled into that armchair, asleep. Waiting for him. And then she’d woken, tossed aside her blanket, and opened her arms.

  He’d never had anyone welcome him home like that. Never had anyone take him into their arms and hold him. Saying nothing. Expecting nothing. And in that moment, it had become clear to him exactly what he was going to do.

  She was his now and he was going to keep her. He was never going to let her go.

  After a long moment, he rose, and holding her in his arms, he carried her upstairs to the bedroom. Laid her in the bed, wrapping the comforter around her to keep her warm.

  He went into the bathroom and had a brief shower, getting rid of the last of the icy chill of the snow and the searing cold of the air as he’d ridden through the streets.

  He’d been so angry he’d had to get out. He’d had to leave before he did something stupid. Said something stupid, though he’d already said nearly all he could possibly say. He’d tried to find his cold detachment, the icy rage that had gotten him through the long years up until this point. But he hadn’t been able to.

  And then she’d been there. And opened her arms. And in the warmth of her, he’d found something better than icy rage. A kind of peace.

  Gabriel slipped naked into the bed beside her, gathering her in his arms and holding her close, her back to his front, her butt fitting perfectly against his groin.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked after a long moment.

  He didn’t need to ask her what she meant. “I’m going to go to the casino.”

  “Why? What do you think you’re going to find there?”

  “Information.”

  “About what?”

  “About why Tremain is laundering money. What the connection is between him and your father. Proof that he married your mother because he was paid to.”

  “Please don’t say you’re doing this for me.”

  “No. You’re not the only one who was hurt by what happened there.”

  “Alex.” The name was a soft w
hisper.

  “Yes.” Gabriel tightened his arms around her. “I’m not doing this to hurt you, Honor, you have to understand that.”

  “I do.”

  There was a small silence.

  “What are you going to do with all this information? If you find any?”

  He’d told the truth, he didn’t want to hurt her. But justice was more important than people’s feelings. More important than hers. And his own.

  “I’m going to use it against him,” he said.

  Another silence.

  “I’m coming with you,” she murmured.

  Protectiveness, a harsh, brutal feeling swept through him. “Fuck that. You’re not going anywhere near—”

  “I think I’m owed it,” she interrupted quietly. “Don’t you?”

  He couldn’t think of a protest to that because yeah, she did. Her father had owned that casino, had let it ruin both him and her brother. Had shattered the life she’d known. It was dangerous as hell but yes, she was owed. He, out of all people, understood that.

  “All right,” he said. “But only on the condition that you follow my orders when we’re there. That place isn’t safe.”

  “Yes.”

  He stared at the mass of silky black hair in front of him then closed his eyes and inhaled her scent. Something inside him calmed. “You can’t tell Tremain. Not about any of this. He’s mine to deal with.”

  She didn’t say anything, but he could feel the tension in her body. He knew this was hard for her and a part of him was sorry he’d told her. And not for himself this time, but because it was painful for her.

  “Honor,” he murmured. “You have to promise me.”

  “I promise,” she said at last.

  Gabriel kissed the back of her neck, then her shoulder, feeling her shiver in his arms. He loved how responsive she was. Loved how having her here, in his bed, made something raw and painful inside him hurt less.

  He felt her hands settle on his arms where they crossed over her breasts, her thumbs stroking, sending small bolts of electricity right through him.

  Desire coiled tightly in his gut. Powerful, insatiable.

 

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