by SR Jones
She frowns at me. “Fine. Feel free to stay in bed all day then. I need some air. I’m going to go for a walk.”
“No walking.” I state firmly. “It’s not safe.”
“I need some exercise.”
“There’s a pool in the basement. Go for a swim.”
“A pool?” Her eyes light up.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“When? Last night when we arrived here after a two-mile run? Didn’t think you’d be in the mood.”
I’m being a jerk, but it feels safe. Being nice to her would feel like something else entirely.
“I don’t have a swimsuit,” she says with a sigh.
“Wear a t-shirt and shorts.”
“That will ruin the experience. I’ll just wear my underwear.”
She leaves me with the food placed on the bed on a tray, and the image of her in her underwear wet and sleek.
Damn, I am fucked.
I eat the food she brought me and then get out of bed and head to the shower. I take a cold one to try to stop the heat of my thoughts. I dress in jeans and a new t-shirt and pad downstairs in bare feet, taking the tray and the used crockery with me.
The kitchen is empty, but there is the cake on the table. It’s finished now and frosted with pale icing. I stare at it, and it makes me feel bad. It’s her birthday today, and the cake is screaming at me to do something for her. But what? I don’t know what she’d like. I can’t give her anything because I can hardly go to the damn shops, holed up as we are.
Then I think of the Kindle in my bag. I love to read. Does she? Maybe I could wipe it, and fill it up with a few books she might enjoy reading? She probably won’t like my choices. Hard boiled detectives, military history, and horror.
A piercing wail splits the air, and I freeze before springing into action. The alarm.
I rush to the observation room and check the monitors, sighing in relief when I see the huge, stunned stag by the electric fence. Damn. I better get some shoes on and go see if it’s okay.
Exiting the room, I stop and stare at Roze in the hallway, wearing nothing but see-through underwear. Eyes wide, she stares at me, dripping water all over the place.
“What is it?” she asks, her voice shaking.
I force myself to stop looking at her pebbled nipples clearly visible through the wet material of the white sporty bra she’s wearing. “Just a deer,” I say. “Go back to your swim.”
I need her and her near nakedness gone.
“A deer?” she cries. “Oh no, we killed a deer?”
“We didn’t do anything, and it is unlikely to be dead. Stunned is my guess. I’m going to go check on it.”
“What if it’s a ruse?” she asks.
“A what?”
“A ruse, to get you to go outside.”
I stare at her a moment and then I start laughing. I can’t help it. The more I try to stop, the more I laugh. It feels good, and I realize it’s been a hell of a long time since I’ve laughed like this.
“What are you laughing at?” she demands, hands on her hips.
“You think what? Someone trained a deer to run at the fence?” I start laughing again. “Or maybe, maybe, they pushed it into the fence.”
“You’re being an ass.” She tosses her hair back over one shoulder, and I look at her.
My smile dies as I let my eyes eat her up. Long legs, slender limbs, curves in all the right places, dark triangle between her legs, and nothing but wet, flimsy fabric between me and her.
“Go. Back. To. The. Pool,” I order. “I’ll deal with the stag. Finish your swim.”
“Oh, I’m done,” she says airily.
“Woman,” I growl. “You’re getting the floor wet through. If you’re done, then go put some clothes on.”
“Ah, I love a man who is house proud.” With those words, she turns her back on me and walks slowly with an extra swing in her hip to the door.
I don’t do the right thing and turn away. No, I stand and watch her go, her ripe ass swaying, and I only stop looking when the door shuts behind her.
Fuck. Me.
Chapter 9
The stag is breathing heavily by the time I reach the fence, and it shakes its head twice. It will be best all-around if the creature gets up under its own steam. I don’t fancy going out there and trying to help it stand. Its antlers are huge. If it weren’t for Roze, I’d be tempted to shoot it and have me some venison, but she’d be devastated by it. She’s been through enough.
The dogs are pacing by the fence and whining. They clearly know not to go near it, though. I search the woods beyond the house, eyes scanning the undergrowth. Nothing moves.
My phone trills in my pocket, and it makes me jump. God, I need to calm down. I’m all on edge, and that is not normal operating procedure for me.
It’s Reece. The blond Brit.
“Yeah?” I say.
“Hey. Listen, you’re not in the clear, and I don’t know how safe you are there.”
“You shitting me?” I turn and walk back to the house at a smart pace. No point being a sitting duck out here if there’s a possible risk. “How could we be in any danger? No fucker knows we rented this place.”
Glancing back at the fence, I smile as the deer stands on unsteady legs and walks back into the forest. He’s going to be okay.
I enter the property, close the door, activate the alarm, and head into a small room that has a TV, a couple of chairs, a shelf of books, a table with some games on the surface, and a sofa. I close the door behind me. I don’t want Roze hearing me talk and getting scared.
“No,” he agrees. “But those men of Jan’s that we couldn’t find? It seems they’re out there where you are. I’ve had Damen log into the security feed at the house where Roze was held. A group of men turned up there today. They’ve checked it out thoroughly, and they’re going to know Roze isn’t dead. So, here’s the thing. There aren’t many properties like the one you’re at on the coast. It’s extremely well positioned and heavily defended. I know they don’t have any intel that you’re there, but if it was me, I’d be looking at satellite photographs of the surrounding area, and I think somewhere as well fortified as you are would be of interest to me. We have eyes on them, and so far, they haven't left the area. If they leave and head back to Berlin, or even over to Dubrovnik to look for her there, you’re in the clear. But if they don’t leave… If they stay that means they think she’s still on the island. It means you’re sitting ducks because as I say, they’re going to start to check out properties.”
Me too. I rub my eyes. Weary suddenly despite the full night’s sleep.
“Where do you suggest I go if we need to evac? Come back to you guys? To Corfu?” She’d be safe there.
He sighs.
“Do not fucking tell me we aren’t welcome there when I work for you.” I’m getting seriously pissed now.
“It’s not that. The only plane K has access to is out of commission. How would you get here? Fly on a public airliner? Risky. Ferry? Even riskier.”
“Bullshit. I can protect her.”
“Out in the open, with men after you who don’t care if they shoot in front of witnesses?”
“Reece, sailor to sailor, tell me now. I know there’s more to it.”
Another sigh. “Andrius doesn’t want Gezim’s daughter here. Doesn’t want the shit that could come from that.”
“I need somewhere to take her,” I insist. “I work for him. He’s hanging me out to dry.”
Another voice comes on the line. Deep. Gruff. Accented. “We’re not hanging you out to dry,” Konstantin says. “Gezim doesn’t want her here either. He most certainly doesn’t want you and her island hopping on shitty local ferries. We could hire a plane, but it might take days.”
“Listen, if you want me to go totally off the grid and take complete control of this myself. I can. I can keep her safe, and I have contacts. I just need the word. I won’t be checking in, though.”
“No,” Konstantin says. “We have a solution. No way would I leave you hanging in the wind.”
I think he means twisting in the wind, but I don’t interrupt him.
“If it came down to it, and there weren’t any better options, then we’d bring you here, of course. Even if we had to hire another private jet. There is another option, though. My son is engaged to a member of the Bianchi family.”
I stay silent. The name means nothing to me.
He sighs. “They were mobsters; now, they’re mostly legit.”
“Mostly?” I question.
“Yes … mostly. The patriarch lives in England. He still dabbles, one might say, in things which may not be entirely legal. His daughter is engaged to my son. However, this patriarch, he has a son himself. This son is very powerful and wealthy, and his wealth is most definitely not illegal.”
“Immoral perhaps,” Reece says. “But not illegal.”
“Why? What does he do?”
“Finance,” Konstantin answers. “He’s a financier. Backs a lot of development and business across Italy. Mostly in the south.”
“Listen, call me naïve, but if he’s pumping money into business in the south, there’s no way he’s not mobbed up.”
“That’s just it,” Konstantin says. “He’s not. I investigated him, the whole family. He wants to invest with us, and he was already on my radar anyway. If my son was to be part of it, I wanted to know what he was getting himself into. Turns out, even the senior Bianchi in the U.K. is not anywhere near as mafia as the legends would have one believe. Nearly all his businesses are legitimate. The son, though, walks entirely on the right side of the law. That doesn’t mean he’s a nice person. He’s ruthless as fuck, and he trades on his name and what it means to people around there to instill fear in them so no one will come after him. He’s managed to do what few have. He’s built a finance business that is legitimate, which no one in the mob dare touch. He’s treated like a prince by the locals where he lives too. He has excellent personal protection. I mean the sort of shit that we want to emulate levels of excellence. He knows real powerbrokers, both Italian and international, and his house is a fucking fortress.”
“And you’re telling me all this because…”
“He says you can go there.”
“Excuse me? Why would I go there? I’m capable of protecting Roze myself. I don’t want to take her into some armed den where I don’t know any of the players, and where she might be in even more danger. Fuck no.”
Konstantin sighs again, and the call hangs up. What the fuck.
My phone rings again, but this time it’s the tone for my video messenger. I press it impatiently, and Konstantin’s face fills the screen. “Listen to me,” he says. “You don’t know my world. You don’t understand what things like family name and honor mean to someone like Bianchi. Both the father and the son. If someone like that offers me and mine, of which you and Roze are right now, their protection, it means a lot. I guaranfuckingtee, she’ll be safe. You too. It’s a last resort if we think those fucks are staying and sniffing around, and it will only be for a few days while we put a team together to take these remnants of Jan’s crew out, then you’re home free.”
“I don’t know. I could take her to America. Get her there tonight. I bet I can grab us seats on a flight.”
“You could, but that means public flights and all the risk it entails.”
He runs a hand across his jaw and smiles. “I tell you who does have a private plane. Giovanni Bianchi. He can get you whenever you bug out. You simply have to get Roze safely to the airport in Dubrovnik, and he’ll have his plane waiting and ready.”
Reece comes into view on the screen. “I’ve background checked this dude. He’s rich as fuck, and powerful, but he is above board from what I’ve seen. Damen and I dug deep between us, but no matter how deep we went there was no dirt of an illegal nature. He’s above board, and in fact pretty damn revered in his part of the world. It’s kind of a big favor him offering this. If I were in your shoes, I’d rather take that up for a few days than be left out there alone if those fuckers don’t move out. I get that you’re probably more than capable of taking care of what’s possibly coming at you, but does Roze need more trauma?”
Those final words from Reece are what convince me.
“Okay. Keep an eye on their movement. I don’t need to know who you have watching them, but if they don’t get off this island by tomorrow, or head in our direction at any time between now and then, let me know. I think we might be wise to move tomorrow if they haven't headed back to Berlin by then. If they’re still here, that means they’re sniffing around and of the opinion we’re still here. If they don’t leave, get me that plane for tomorrow. Confirm times for me, and I’ll get us ready to leave.”
“Done.”
He hangs up, and I run a hand through my hair. Shit. This isn’t ideal. If these fuckers of Jan’s stay, I don’t like the idea of heading to Italy, and going into a situation where there will be a lot of armed people who I do not know, nor trust. Then again, if Reece and Konstantin have checked him out and think it’s a good idea, who am I to argue? I work for them. Surely, if they trust this guy, and his people, then I should too.
Trust. I have issues with it. Major issues. I trusted my team downrange, but since leaving active service, I’ve found it hard to trust people because I find it hard to understand them, mostly. Civilians are weird, if you ask me. They are focused on shit I just don’t care about.
Konstantin might have been a crook, but before that he was military. I can relate to him. Special Forces, in fact. Reece was Special Boat Service. Andrius was Spetsnaz. Cole, my brother so far as I’m concerned, works with them and vouches for them. I ought to at least be able to trust them. I don’t. Not fully.
I’m going to stay alert, keep my senses about me, and if I get even a hint of something I don’t like, I’ll take Roze out of there and go it alone.
Heading out of the room, I take a right into the kitchen and stare at the cake. If she’s going to celebrate, then she needs to do it now because by tomorrow we might be leaving.
If we leave, I’ll put out food for the dogs, and once we’re safely in Italy, I’ll tell Damen to inform the property owner that we left early, and the dogs need taking care of. I don’t want to give anyone the heads-up that we’re leaving before we’re safely in Italy.
Chapter 10
He looked at me like I was beautiful. He looked at me like he wanted to devour me. He looked at me like I was his.
It took another twenty laps before I had cooled off enough to get out of the pool and take a shower and dress. Priest wants me. I don’t care how much he denies it with his words; his eyes tell a whole other tale.
They’re so expressive. Deep. Sad in a way. I want to see them filled with heat and passion. I want his big hands on me, touching me everywhere. The man might not be the best bet when it comes to life choices because seducing your bodyguard and protector surely isn’t up there in the smart stakes, but I don’t care.
I could have died. I spent hours and hours convinced I would. Hours convinced I’d never get to truly live. Because, so far in life, really, have I? No. I’ve hidden. Stayed low. Hardly ever seen my own father and made sure I never got too close to anyone.
Sure, where I hid away was beautiful. No one should moan about having a gorgeous home on the Dubrovnik riviera, but I had no family. I had friends, but I never let anyone get too close; scared they’d end up in danger possibly or that I’d have to leave suddenly and never see them again. I never had a lover. Twenty-years-old, and I’ve never had a lover. How sad is that?
No more.
I won’t hide away again. I’m going to disconnect from my father, as painful as it will be because I need to be free to build a life for myself.
Now I have no idea what that life will look like. What I do know is what I want short term, in the here and now. Priest.
Thing is, though, how do I make him want me ba
ck enough to break through whatever barrier it is that he’s put up between us? It’s a thick barrier. You can practically see it.
“Hey, Roze.” His deep voice carries up the stairs to the bedroom where I’m pacing and thinking.
“Yes.” I don’t put much warmth in my tone. I might want him, but I’m also pissed at the way he talks to me and treats me.
“Can you come down here?”
It’s a request. I swear, if he’d ordered me to do so, I’d have told him to go screw himself, but since he asked, I shrug and head out of the room.
When I hit the downstairs hall, he’s leaning in the kitchen doorway, taking up most of the space. He looks as if he could hold the house up.
“Yes?”
“It’s your birthday, right?”
“Yes?” I’m suspicious now. He seems to be playing nice.
“So, why don’t we share a slice of that cake?”
“You want to eat cake with me?” I raise my brows.
“I think we should eat cake, yes.”
“How is the deer?”
“Stag, and he’s gone.”
“He’s okay?”
“Yes. Shook himself. Got up. Went.”
I’m so happy. If the deer had died, it would have been awful.
“Cake?” he asks.
“Okay. Sure. Thanks.” I slide past him, taking care not to touch him in case he thinks it’s a desperate attempt to have him fuck me. It’s not easy because he’s massive, but I manage to get by without any skin-on-skin contact.
I glance at the table and gasp. There’s a candle burning in the center of the cake, and two glasses filled with something sparkling.
“Found it in the cupboard.” Priest’s deep rumble comes from over my shoulder, and I can feel his heat right behind me.
The urge to lean into him, to absorb that heat is almost overwhelming. I stand rigid, firm against this insane, idiotic attraction I’m feeling.
“Champagne?”
“Sadly, no. It’s sparkling apple juice.”
I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder. “That’s okay; I love apple juice.”
