When she accepted her fate, the pressure slacked off and oxygen began trickling into her ravenous lungs. With every molecule, the blackness receded. Her gaze focused on Marv’s face and his satanically exultant expression. Was he prolonging her death for his own preserve amusement or simply to show her that he could?
His pelvis rammed against her with an unmistakable significance. He took his hand away from her mouth and assaulted her with a bruising kiss as his pelvis repeated the message. He smelled of sweat and arousal. Nausea curdled in her stomach. Hatred kindled in her soul.
Feebly, she tried to push him way.
Marv laughed with excitement and bit her lower lip. She tasted blood; the taste of Marv’s kind of passionate love. But she didn't want that, not since he let his buddy try to burn her too. No more. Zoë pushed harder at his chest and kicked his shins. He grabbed her breast and twisted. She gasped with mixed pain and passion. He ripped her skirt then used the torn strip as a binding for her hands.
Next, he tore off her silk thong, his nails scratching tender flesh. Zoë gasped in pain. He chortled in delight. His fingers jabbed into her. Despite herself, she felt excitement kindle. Why did it always end up like this? She moaned.
“Want me to stop?” he asked. She nodded. His mouth flattened and his nails bit into her most tender part.
He only wanted two things from her, but would never give her anything she wanted. “You don’t need me to spy on Kelsey, not with Doran there.” Her voice sounded raspy.
Marv let go and backed up a step. “What are you talking about?” His eyes reminded her of the way a cat watched its exhausted prey for a twitch. She tried to smooth her skirt, but bound hands made that impossible. He nonchalantly rubbed the shin she’d kicked.
Zoë wet her bruised lips and tasted more blood. She tried to swallow, but it felt as if a hot ball of hatred on blocked her throat. “After the fire, Kelsey hired Devlin Doran to be her bodyguard. He belongs to you, doesn’t he?”
“His firm has done work for me.” His face appeared to merge with the room’s shadows, while his body appeared ready to attack at the slightest provocation. “How’s she hook up with D. Q.?”
Zoë shrugged. She had been in this situation a thousand times before and knew the immediate threat was gone. Zoë looked past him to the filthy urinals. Previous impromptu couplings had been in worse places. Somehow, the setting seemed appropriate for the way she’d lived since he’d raped her the first time. She tried to control her breathing, so she didn't have to inhale the foul stench. Illogically, she felt like laughing.
“Why the hell did she hire a milquetoast P.I. for a body guard?” he demanded.
His furious question sobered her. “I guess because he was there." Zoë allowed herself to appear defeated. "I figured you’d set it all up.” The night had certainly seemed choreographed. Marv's amused expression suggested that he didn't trust her with the truth. Apparently Jake didn’t mind killing Doran or anyone else, if it meant killing Kelsey; the question was whether his ‘kill ‘em all and let God sort ‘em out’ attitude came from Marv. Zoë risked a glance at him. His lack of faith in her hurt more than anything he'd done in the previous seventeen years. And this time, it made her angry. Fortunately, she knew better than to show her fury and give him a reason to beat her.
He smirked. “I’m good, babe, but I’m not that good.”
She’d seen Jake reporting to him. Why was he trying to pretend he didn’t know about the attack? Had he lost trust in her when she refused to help him kill Kelsey? Exactly what had gone on the previous evening and what part did Doran play? Had he defied orders and put out the fire? Or had he done it as a ploy to get Kelsey to trust him? Pretty damned dangerous, if it was the latter. Perhaps the studmuffin was as disposable as Marv made her feel.
Marv's hands twitched as if he wanted to wring her neck. Zoë forced herself into her most seductive pose. “Marv, you’re the best.” Despite the bindings, she ran the tips of her nails across the front of his athletic shorts and felt an instant response. This time when he grabbed her, she didn’t fight.
Vaguely, she heard footsteps outside the door. Someone said something about a leak. Marv thrust her away from him. Her shin connected with the toilet and she tripped. Terrified of the darkness, tears flowed down her cheeks. “Don’t cry, you damned bitch,” Marv hissed. “Or I’ll cut your eyes out, so it’ll always be dark.” He slammed the stall door closed and she was alone. Her knees gave out, her chin hit the porcelain, and she sat down hard on the fetid floor. The odor suffocated her, the pain of lost dreams tore her heart and Zoë was certain she’d shattered her jaw.
As darkness shrouded her, she heard water start running and Marv greet someone in his best politician’s tone.
If she lived, she was going to pay him back for this.
ooo
Ashley, who was filing paperwork, looked up as Kelsey entered the reception area of her wholesale business. “Good morning, Kelsey. I didn’t expect you in this morning.”
“Is there anything urgent that I need to deal with?”
“Jade has been covering wholesale for you.”
What would she do without her cousin? She’d have to find time to cover retail for her. “Well, then, I’ll be in my office.” Each step took her farther from the temptation of Devlin Doran, her proverbial knight in shining armor. And while each footfall made her stomach ache a bit more with loss, it steeled her resolve to protect him.
The door behind her opened with a resounding boom. Ashley dropped several invoices. As the papers fluttered downward, Ashley spun toward the door. Her expression changed from alarm to animation as if a switch had been flicked. Only a gorgeous man could do that.
Kelsey hastened toward her office, praying she could get there and slam the door before Doran caught up with her and she had to explain her decision.
His footfalls were gaining fast. A large hand caught her shoulder and spun her around. She gasped a lung full of spicy aftershave and her resolve started to melt. She squared her shoulders against his magnetism. He leaned close. “Get this through your hard head," he said softly. "I make the rules, not you.” Her heart fluttered. She shook her head. Determination hardened his features. “You agreed to do as I said, when I said.” His domineering tone sounded just like all the male MacLennans she’d spent her life fighting.
She felt herself stand straighter as her will strengthened. “I most certainly did not,” she hissed.
Mere inches separated them as Doran put his hands on his hips and raised a brow. Had a man ever smelled so good? “Didn’t you?”
“Well, maybe I did,” she muttered. He smiled. Something fluttered in her stomach. Even if she weren’t trying to protect him by firing him, she’d have to remove this man from her life because being around him made coherent thought impossible. With him around, she'd never be able to concentrate on anything. More papers dropped as Ashley stared at them. Doran was giving her gossipy secretary enough fuel to bend ears for the next year. “But-“ she began
Doran lowered his head and kissed her.
Heat rushed through her. Her legs trembled. Doran tenderly drew her closer, until every hard plain of his body met one of her curves. When he drew back an inch, his breath caressed her lips. “I've wanted to do that since the first time I saw you."
"But-"
"No buts.” His soft tone sounded sensual, as he lightly brushed her lips with his. “Are you going to continue arguing with me?” He leaned back to look at her. She shook her head. His head tilted a fraction of an inch closer, as if to seal the deal with another kiss. There was a loud crash. As she jumped, Doran shoved her behind him, while his right hand disappeared under his gray tweed jacket.
Kelsey peeked around him. A pool of papers surrounded Ashley, whose face was red with embarrassment. Kelsey wondered if Ashley had done it intentionally to get Doran’s attention. When his hand came out from under his jacket, empty, she realized just how quick and controlled his reflexes were.
Ashley
lower lip trembled as she looked from Doran to the mess. Kelsey had seen her secretary’s charms turn otherwise macho men into mush. She ducked behind his back, certain that he would be on his knees any second and knew that when he did, it would help her past this unexplainable attraction.
Doran glanced from the papers to Ashley’s face, then ignoring her stricken secretary, he turned and gently stroked her upper arms, finally placing a warm hand on each shoulder, he stared down at her. Kelsey’s heart pounded. Doran smiled at her with such heat that she knew she’d never have hired him had she seen it before.
"I need to-" she gestured toward her office. He smiled and ushered her toward the gray fire door. It closed behind them. As she neared her desk, the deadbolt snapped into place: the sound of entrapment, which her stepmother used as her preferred method of control; the sound of safety, which her grandparents had spent a fortune on.
British Sterling wafted through the room. The same compelling scent had infused his bedroom and her dreams. The hairs on the back of her neck trembled for a new reason.
She had felt out of control before. The first time was when Byron had entered her life. Kelsey clutched the front edge of the antique rosewood desk, which her grandmother had bequeathed to her. The wood felt solid beneath her grip, reminding her that she was a successful woman, not a baby. She gritted her teeth and turned to Doran. “You are fired,” she enunciated each word separately, and hoped that he couldn't sense how she felt or how much that terrified her.
He gave her a smug smile. “You’re arguing.” Behind the shy mask, the man had audacity enough for a family of four. Courage enough to be a MacLennan.
“No, I’m firing you.” She inhaled and squared her shoulders against his irresistible scent and killer body. “Just who do you think you are and who gave you the right to touch me?”
“I am the person you hired to keep you alive.” Doran appeared unfazed by her anger, but the bags under his eyes suggested that she might not have been the only one plagued by lack of sleep. The memory of the erotic dreams, which had continually woken her, made her blood pressure rise and her head throb.
Fighting the temptation to touch the stitches at her hairline, Kelsey mimicked his posture, “And you think that gives you the right to touch me? Maul me? In public, no less?”
He smiled. Her stomach did a flip-flop. “I can’t help it if you’re one of the most desirable women I’ve ever seen. While we’re on the subject, I’ll point out that last night I gave up my bed for you and slept on the sofa. Not that I got much sleep.” His gaze savored her. “I was awake all night thinking about you in my bed. Did I do anything? No. All I did was give you one measly kiss this morning.”
She gulped at the idea that he’d consider that toe-curling kiss measly. She’d lain awake, breathing his smell, afraid to move, because with every tiny movement his male scent brought her body alive with need. No, it would never do to have Devlin Doran around. Never do to have him know how deeply he affected her. Never do to let him know how much she needed him. Kelsey backed into her desk with a thump and sat down on its edge.
Doran closed the distance between them, put his palms flat on the polished wood, one on each side of her hips and leaned down so he was at eye level with her. Fiery heat radiated through her. Kelsey couldn’t have moved it her life depended upon it, and deep in her soul, she didn't want to.
Slowly, his mouth inched nearer. As their lips touched, she wrapped her arms around his neck as if he was a lifeline, and she was going down for the last time.
Doran’s arms enfolded around her. She molded her body against him. His hands moved over her; heated flesh against chilling memories of the last time she’d felt such closeness. She needed to push him away, yet wanted him closer. Her hands moved under his jacket and stroked the sensual silk of his shirt.
He groaned with desire.
His hands roamed over her, first bunching up the fabric of her shirt, then sliding over her skirt.
She sighed.
He broke the contact and tucked her head beneath his chin. His ragged fanned her forehead. “I’m sorry for whatever I did to upset you earlier and I’m sorry for going too far, now." His thundering heartbeat matched her own. "Please forgive me."
The tenderness in his tone brought a lump to her throat.
How could something that felt so right have such lousy timing? Even her infatuation with Byron had never been this confusing.
"Are you angry at me?" he asked.
Was she? "I don't think so."
"Then why did you fire me?"
Fear of her desires. "To protect you.” Kelsey couldn't articulate the confusion of being torn between never wanting the contact to end, and knowing that she didn't have time for this, her tears began spilling over.
“I am good at protecting myself and I think I can protect you, too.” He hugged her tighter, reminding her of the man she'd trusted with her life. Weeping released buried demons and she sobbed until there were no more tears. He simply held her, more concerned about her than anything else in the world.
Finally, she rubbed away the tears. “I’m so sorry." She pushed away from him. "I think I’ve ruined your shirt.” His chuckle was a warm, deep sound and he pulled her closer.
“I like holding you. Touching you,” he said. The thought of what her mascara and tears had done to the black silk, which he didn't seem to care about made her eyes water, more. “It’s only fabric. It’ll dry." His thumb moved over her cheek. "Things don’t matter.” Doran stroked her throat, while she listened to his heartbeat and his gaze caressed her lips. “People matter.” He tilted her head back until he looked into her eyes. “Tears matter.” He kissed the bridge of her nose and regretfully removed his hands. “You ready to give me that tour now?”
“Not until I fix my face.” Embarrassed by her response, to Doran, Kelsey averted her eyes as she hurried into the small half bath. She shut the door, exhaled, and leaned back against the door’s solid steel surface. Eyes closed, her heart hammered while her mind sorted through the tumult of mixed emotions Devlin Doran inspired.
She inhaled and detected his spicy aftershave. Her eyes opened. The oval gilt-framed mirror displayed a face with clotted rivulets of brown mascara on her checks, red-rimmed eyes and a line of stitches across her forehead. What did a nice, intelligent man like Doran see in her other than the hundred dollars an hour she’d promised him?
Kelsey touched her lips and grimaced. Strange how good it had felt to be kissed by him. For the first time, she realized how inept Byron had been.
Stepping to the sink, she wet a paper towel and washed away the marred makeup. Kelsey studied her reflection. Bruises in assorted colors remained; the outer edges remained purplish, while the inner portions had healed to an unflattering olive tone. Not a face to attract a handsome, virile man. She stared at herself. Doran must have sick taste when it came to women.
Why hadn't he made any sort of physical play for her until he knew she owned this business?
Worse, why wait until he had an audience? She glanced at the connecting door to the lab, where she hybridized orchids. Tempting as it was to feed the code into the security system and escape, it was also the coward’s way. And she wasn’t a coward; she was a MacLennan. But what was Devlin Doran?
He seemed changeable as the Carolina's weather; hot one-minute, chilly the next. A raving monster one minute; a saint the next. Could he be some sort of gigolo?
Kelsey studied her reflection in the small oval mirror. The railroad track of the stitches paralleling her hairline were strained. She gripped the cold white porcelain of the pedestal sink until the pain passed. Perhaps he felt sorry for her. She reapplied her makeup, but still couldn’t decide on a course of action. With a sigh, she squared her shoulders and walked out to deal with the man, who both mystified and attracted her.
ooo
When Kelsey came out of the bathroom, her carefully combed hair and makeup covered most signs of the accident as well as her possible humanity. She went st
raight to the main door, unlocked the deadbolt and marched out head high. Doran followed. The blond secretary eyed them as if she had a million questions and laryngitis, but Kelsey ignored her.
Apparently Kelsey’s hips hadn't gotten the message that the woman they belonged to wanted to be an emotionless automaton, because they swayed enticingly as she leaned against the thick metal door that connected The Flower Shop’s reception area to the hothouses.
From blueprints filed with the county, Doran knew that the door they were going through went into a long corridor that connected all ten half-acre growing chambers to the office and hidden lab. Various parts of the passageway served as potting sheds, tool storage and an employee break area, but over half was devoted to shipping and receiving.
A month before, he’d attempted a clandestine visit to the lab, but the effort had uncovered more security installations than the blueprints specified, so he hadn't had the proper tools to deal with the unexpected problems. That foray had convinced him Kelsey MacLennan was a key player in her family’s drug processing facility. Following that sortie, he'd spent weeks covertly monitoring the five acres of greenhouses. The more he watched how customers, workers and freight came and went unheeded, the more he realized what an ideal cover her setup made. Watching Kelsey from a distance, he’d come up with his 'savior plan'. And now she was escorting him into the area she guarded like Fort Knox.
Doran pushed through the heavy metal door, in the light of day, as an invited guest and silently congratulated himself on winning Kelsey’s confidence. Entering the main hall, thousands, perhaps millions, of orchids filled the half-acre area. And all were in full bloom. Doran stopped, stunned by the view of the long connecting greenhouse that ran perpendicular from the main hall.
The door swung back, softly grazing his arm.
Kelsey stifled a chuckle.
Doran blinked. Neither night-vision goggles nor hours of peering through whitewashed glass had prepared him for this sight.
Deadly Rumors Page 12
