by Evelyn Adams
Feeling like an ass, which was becoming an increasingly familiar feeling, he turned and the box on the counter caught his eye. He stared at it for a moment as if it were some kind of bomb that might go off before he undid the small metal clasp and raised the lid.
Amanda’s necklace nestled on the velvet lining, the intricate pearl flowers wound together in an oval. It was as if Sophie had figured out how to dip a delicate flowering vine in silver and luster in a way that made it so much more than it had been before she touched it. It was the same thing she’d done to him: made him more than he was before her touch.
It was beautiful, natural, sophisticated, the whole so much more than the parts. His sister was going to love it. It also felt like an ending, like one less link between him and Sophie. Closing the lid on the box, he started down the hall to the master bedroom almost stumbling when he saw the door to the guest bedroom was cracked. What if it was already over? What if she’d decided to cut her loses and leave his bed? He pushed the door open, exhaling when he found the room empty.
The band around his chest relaxed when he opened the door to his bedroom and saw Sophie curled into a ball in the middle. It was as if without him there to wrap around, she’d turned in on herself. Stripping off his clothes, he slipped under the covers and gathered her into his arms. She whimpered in her sleep and he held her tighter, wrapping his body around her in an attempt to shelter her from whatever tormented her.
“Shh, sweetheart, it’s just a dream.” He whispered the words, his lips against her hair, and she turned in to his touch. Shifting to face him, she pressed her hands to his chest and for a moment he worried that she’d push him away.
“I didn’t know,” she said, her voice rough with sleep.
“I know. I’m sorry.” He bent to kiss her forehead but she raised her face, stretching to claim his lips with hers.
It was like matches and gasoline. Between one breath and the next, he went from being glad she was there to needing to be inside her. He tugged at her T-shirt, baring her breast to his hands. His mouth. Rolling her onto her back, he wrapped his lips around her nipple and suckled her—long, hard pulls that had her hips thrusting off the bed. He worried he might be too rough, but she gripped his hair, holding him to her breast, urging him to take more. To nip and bite and suck harder as he worked his way between her breasts.
“Please.” The word came out on a breath, so full of need, and in that moment, he knew he’d do anything she asked of him. “Inside me. Please.”
He slid his hand into her panties, his fingers playing over her slick folds as her hips bucked into his touch. Pushing two fingers inside her, he set up the rhythm he knew worked for her. Alternating gentle thrusts with curling his fingers to stroke inside her, he wound her higher. She clenched around his hand and he could tell she was close. In such a short period of time, he’d learned what she liked, how she wanted to be touched and he knew no matter what happened, making Sophie come would always be one of his greatest pleasures.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he said as she rode his hand, her desire pushing her to meet him with every thrust of her hips. “Take what you need.”
Keeping up the rhythm with his hand, he tugged her nipple between his teeth and then suckled her as her body tightened. He felt the moment the orgasm took her. Her back bowed and her body pulsed around him, milking his fingers with the force of her climax. She cried out, first his name and then something deeper, primal, and his cock throbbed with the force of it. Her desire, her need, her release—all tied to him as if they were bound together.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” He repeated the words like a chant as the tremors shaking her body slowed.
“Make love to me,” she said, her words barely more than a whisper.
For a moment, he wondered if she’d said the words or if he’d projected what he wanted to hear. But then she reached for him and he stopped wondering. Snagging a condom from the nightstand, he sheathed himself. He braced his body over her and spread her legs, opening for him. She was so slick, so wet for him. He pressed the head of his cock at her opening and she tipped her hips up to meet him, drawing him in with her legs wrapped around his waist. Wedded together, his body pinning hers, he froze, lost in the sweet sensation of Sophie in his arms, her scent surrounding him, her body holding his.
She was the one who moved, pressing her heels into his ass, pulling him closer. He thrust into her and she met him, every stroke taking them higher until there was nothing left to do but fall. Cupping her head with his hand, he cradled her to his chest, needing to tell her with his body what he still couldn’t say out loud. That she was precious. That he needed her. That, oh God, she was everything to him.
He rocked his hips forward, careful to grind against her clit until he felt her body tighten again. Clinging to each other, wordless because there wasn’t anything they could say, they tipped over the edge together as the climax rolled over them. Layer upon layer of pleasure stitching their hearts together.
SOPHIE WOKE ALONE BUT IT was okay. Something shifted when Emerson came home the previous night and made love to her, because that’s what it was. She didn’t need more experience to understand the difference between what they’d done and sex. She still didn’t know where they were headed—hell, the list of things she didn’t know was so long it was laughable—but whatever ended up happening, they weren’t over. With everything else falling apart around her, that would have to be enough for now.
Padding to the kitchen barefoot, she found a whole wheat toaster pastry on the counter and note that said Enjoy breakfast ~Eddington. She bit her bottom lip as the smile lit up her face. His choice was the perfect blend of the two of them—whole grain for him and Pop-Tart for her, and he used the name she’d known him by before any of the rest of this started. They couldn’t go back there but if they could figure out how to get the Darah to go away, maybe they could move forward.
She’d played around with the idea of disappearing. She’d survived for five years when she hadn’t known she was supposed to be hiding. Surely she’d do even better when she knew she needed to keep a low profile. But that still wouldn’t be enough to guarantee her safety. And Emerson would follow her. They hadn’t made promises to each other—not verbal ones anyway. Regardless of how he felt about her, he wouldn’t rest if she disappeared. Which, as far as she could see, left her one option. She had something the cartel wanted. She just had to figure out how to give it to them.
A week ago, she hadn’t known she owned a pearl farm. She’d be perfectly happy not to own it again. Especially if it meant she got her life back and she got the chance to do things over with Emerson. Just the two of them, with no danger and a chance to make things work. Not that she had any idea how to go about it, but it was the first plan she’d had in a while. That combined with multiple orgasms and the promise of more had her feeling more optimistic than she’d been a day earlier.
Popping the pastry into the toaster, she dug in the cupboard for the tea. When the kettle started to whistle, she grabbed two mugs from the cabinet and made the tea. It was a day for firsts and she intended to hit it head on. Taking the extra mug, she went to the front door and peered out. Smithson was the man on duty, but instead of standing like a sentinel in front of the door, he sat on a bench at the edge of her view. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well, which made the tea an even better idea. She couldn’t pay the men assigned to guard her, but she could try to make things easier for them.
Careful not to let the door close behind her, she stepped into the hallway. The man on the bench didn’t look up, but she could tell by his uniform and his build who he was. Emerson’s mom had called him Daniel.
“Hey.” Sophie pitched her voice as a stage whisper and took a few steps closer.
He didn’t respond, which meant something was wrong, and she didn’t need to get any closer to know what it was. A thin trickle of blood ran down the man’s temple.
Sophie dropped the mug and the tea seeped into the carpet as s
he bolted for the safety of the apartment. Closing the door behind her, she threw the deadbolt and then turned, coming face-to-face with the man who in gentler times she’d thought of as an uncle.
“It’s good to see you again, Sophie.”
“UNCLE JACK.”
Instead of the bush pants and T-shirts from her memory, he wore a suit without a tie. He looked like someone who was used to pushing paper around on a desk instead of diving for oysters. She knew from experience, he was a hell of a lot stronger than someone who spent their days behind a desk. Oyster farming was grueling physical work and the man standing in front of her had been more than capable of handling all of it.
“You remember. The way you ran off without saying good-bye, I wasn’t sure...well, I wasn’t sure what to think. And then you surfaced halfway around the world—in North Carolina of all places.”
Sophie’s blood had gone to ice in her veins. She didn’t stand a chance at running. With the deadbolt on, she’d never get out of the door or into the elevator fast enough to escape. She might be able to lock herself in one of the bedrooms. She ran through possible scenarios in her head, grateful he seemed more interested in talking than shooting—for the time being at least. She didn’t have any illusions about how long that would last.
“I’m going to need you to come with me. You’ve got something I want.”
He said it as if her cooperation was a given. To him it probably was. He’d already proved he was willing to kill to get what he wanted. She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat at the image of Smithson—Daniel—slumped on the bench. She’d be pathetic resistance in comparison.
“If you’re talking about the farm, you can have it.”
A flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes, but he quickly shuttered it.
“How long have you known?”
“Not long. It doesn’t matter. I don’t want it.”
“Good girl, but I’m still going to need you to come back to Australia with me to sign the papers in front of a magistrate. It’s so much easier to transfer the deed if you’re alive. It’s something I learned after your brother died. Speaking of which...”
He went on but a ringing started in Sophie’s ears and she had to grab the back of the sofa to steady herself.
“You killed Noah.” She phrased it as a statement, not a question. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it was the truth. The accident had never made sense to her. Looking back over the years, she’d wondered if the police suspected something too—not that any of that would bring Noah back.
“Not me personally. You’ve got to understand; the men I’m in business with aren’t the most patient. Which is what I was trying to apologize for. My overzealous associate was not supposed to try to kill you. It’s a mistake he won’t make again.”
She should be grateful he needed her alive; otherwise, she’d be dead already. Gratitude wasn’t something she could feel at the moment.
“You’re working with the Darah. They sell people—women and children. Torture them.”
There were too many horrible things piled on top of each other for Sophie to begin to make sense of them, but the man standing in front of her had brought her treats as a child. He’d made her mother laugh. And he’d had her brother killed. It was too much to process.
“You’ve certainly found out a lot for a young woman a world away. That man of yours must be better than I gave him credit for.”
Her stomach tightened and her heart beat so loud, she was surprised the other man couldn’t hear it. The idea of him somehow connecting this mess to Emerson terrified her. More than fear for her own safety, she couldn’t stand the idea of him or anyone else he was close to being hurt because of her. Sarah, Amanda, Gabe. He had a family he loved. People who needed him.
“He’s not part of this.”
“Whatever you say, luv. You don’t need him anymore anyway. I’ll look out for you. I always have. It’s the reason the Darah kept their hands off you. You’re my family.” He said the words as if he were offering her a treasure instead of tearing apart her world.
“What?” she asked, as the meaning of his words penetrated her thoughts.
“I’m your uncle. Your father’s brother. You didn’t know? You always called me uncle.”
“I thought that was just a nickname.” Her lips were cold. She didn’t know that was even possible. She felt like she’d been swimming in ice-cold water and she was getting ready to go under again.
“I guess I’m not surprised your mother never told you. My brother didn’t treat her very well.”
What kind of man must her father have been if the monster in front of her thought he wasn’t good to her mother? It didn’t matter. None of that mattered. Not the past. Not the pearls. Nothing mattered but surviving if she could and keeping Emerson safe if she couldn’t.
“We’ve got a long flight ahead of us. We can talk about it on the way. Slip on your shoes.” He picked her handbag off the chair and emptied it on the counter, fishing through it until he found her wallet with her ID. He tucked that into the empty bag and handed it back to her. “You won’t need more than this. Let’s go.”
EMERSON HAD COME so close to telling Sophie he loved her. He still hadn’t been able to say the words but holding her in the dark, making love to her, he’d tried to show her how he felt. And then he’d snuck out of bed the next morning before she woke. He had to get a grip. He couldn’t think about anything but her. He couldn’t get his work done and he was no closer than he’d been to figuring out how to get the target off Sophie’s back.
The only thing he was becoming increasingly sure of was that he might have misunderstood what it meant to compromise for love. He’d assumed when his mom gave up her journalism career to take care of them that she’d lost more than she gained. It’s exactly what he’d been thinking about with Liam and his goat farmer too. The thing he hadn’t realized was that love didn’t take things from you or make you smaller. Love gave so much more. He’d do anything for Sophie and be glad to do it because loving her made him better at being who he was supposed to be. Just like loving Andy made Liam stronger and loving her family made his mother even better than she’d been before them.
Now that he saw it, he couldn’t unsee it. It was like one of those optical illusions that was such a struggle to start out with but as soon as the image became clear, it was as if it were the only thing there.
He loved Sophie. And their love—God, please let her love him too—could make them both stronger. He wasn’t too old and she wasn’t too innocent and neither of them had to lose anything to be together. The only thing he’d lose was his chance at happiness if she walked out of his life. He wanted to share everything with her: his life, his love, his big loving family. He wanted to give her all the things she’d had to do without over the years. And he wanted to start now.
“I’m taking the rest of the day off,” he said, to everyone and no one in particular in the outside office. He might have heard whistles behind his back as he left but he didn’t care. Punching the button for the elevator, he dialed Smithson’s number to let him know he was on his way up. It rang through to voicemail. Not bothering to leave a message, he punched the number again, ice flooding his veins.
“Someone said you were taking the day off. I thought I was hearing things,” said Gabe, coming to stand behind him.
“Smithson’s not answering. Something’s wrong.” His entire focus narrowed to getting to Sophie and making sure she was safe.
The elevators started its descent but instead of the doors opening in front of Emerson and Gabe, the car kept going.
“Take two guys and get upstairs to the apartment. Send Andrews and Perez to the parking garage and anybody else who’s free to cover the other floors.”
Gabe started barking orders and men started to rush out into the hallway. The teams went in different directions while Emerson worked out scenarios in his head. His first instinct was to race upstairs, but something in his gut stopped hi
m. He couldn’t think of what it meant for Sophie if Smithson had been compromised. He couldn’t think dead because that would make it likely Sophie was dead too.
But how would someone get into the building? Everything was locked down through a combination of key cards and codes. There weren’t any other tenants at the moment. The second he had the thought he remembered the email and took off at a run for the lobby. God, he was so stupid. He should have seen the danger before it happened. Now he had to pray he could get to the woman he loved in time.
He tucked the radio in his ear as he ran and heard the all clears coming from the different parts of the building, but nothing from his brother. Nothing from the floor his apartment was on.
It would make sense for someone to try to get out through the garage. There was less traffic and fewer eyes, but anyone smart enough to book a showing with the realtor would know the garage was gated. The fastest easiest way in and out of the building was in plain sight: through the front door of the lobby.
He skidded around the corner and through the door to the lobby just in time to see the elevator doors start to open. He stepped into the cover of the doorway but not before he met a terrified Sophie’s gaze. Her beautiful blue eyes pleaded with him and it took everything he had not to rush across the lobby floor to get to her.
The man who stepped out of the elevator with her had his arm in his grip but no visible weapon. That was all the information he needed. Anything short of a gun drawn on Sophie wasn’t enough to get him to stop. He had to reach her before they made it out of the building. Sophie sped up, as if she were trying to get to the door faster. It put a few steps between her and the man and gave Emerson the opening he needed.
