Wild for Him

by Janelle Denison

  He reached out and caressed the backs of his fingers along her cheek, and she tried not to cringe in revulsion at his touch. "Maybe you'd like to show me just how appreciative you are."

  She desperately tried to wrack her brain for some kind of stall tactic. "Not here."

  "We're not going anywhere else. We're going to stay right here until I'm done with you." That depraved light in his gaze shone brighter. "Until I've used you the way you've used me. Do you know how long I've waited to get you alone and have you all to myself like this?"

  She shook her head. "How long?"

  "Months." His mouth twisted with rancor. "A few weeks ago I had you alone in my office, half-naked in my private bathroom. If it hadn't been for Ben, you would have been mine then. Then, I tried to get you alone the night of the charity event. God, I was so close, too. You were drugged and you were so willing to do whatever I wanted."

  Thank God Ben had come to her rescue. "What else?" she asked, needing to know everything.

  "Those snakes you received in the mail? I sent them to you." He looked very pleased with himself. "I had it timed for me to arrive when you opened your mail that day. I sat out in my car and watched through the windows of your business as you took the package to your office. I was going to walk inside The Big Event as you opened the box and discovered the snakes." His expression turned irate. "I was supposed to be the one you ran to for protection. I was the one who was supposed to save you, but Ben was there. Always Ben!"

  Christine couldn't believe what she was hearing.

  "Nobody appreciates what I do," Craig ranted angrily as he paced in front of her. "Not you. Not my family. Not even my father! I'm the one who helped Charles Lambert win the election so that my father's development company could get the contract to rebuild the lower west side. I'm the one who sent those threats to your father to drop out of the race so Lambert and my father would benefit from all the extra income that new development would generate. But nobody appreciated what I tried to do. Especially not my father. Instead, he told me I was an idiot for doing something so stupid." His rage over his father's slur was tangible.

  Christine had to agree with Jonathan Crosby about his son's state of mind, but there was one thing that didn't make sense to her. "But my father didn't drop out of the race."

  "I know." Craig shook his head in mock sadness. "And I did warn him that if he didn't step down that he'd lose what was most precious to him. And here you are now."

  His smile was pure evil.

  "You don't want to do this, Craig," she said, doing and saying whatever it took to change his mind. Because right now, she had no leverage other than her words that could save her.

  "I'm so tired of everyone taking and taking and taking from me," he said spitefully. "Now I'm going to take what I want, and nobody is going to stop me. Not even your precious Ben. Tonight, you're all mine."

  "I'll never be yours, Craig," she said, her voice strong and sure in her conviction. "I love Ben, and nothing you do to me will ever change that."

  "Shut up!" he yelled, then backhanded her across the face, the force of it causing her head to snap to the side. "Shut the fuck up!"

  He knotted her hair in his fist, yanked back her head, and brought his mouth down on hers. She fought the kiss, the invasion of his tongue, refusing to give even a small part of herself to him. And that only infuriated him more.

  His hands pulled at her dress and groped her, making her physically ill at the thought of what was about to happen down here in this isolated, secluded cellar. With her hands tied behind her back, struggling against him was futile. All she could do was close her eyes, detach herself from the situation, and pray that it was over quickly.

  Chapter Seventeen

  BEN glanced at his watch for the fifth time in so many minutes. It had been nearly twenty minutes since Christine told him she needed to go to the ladies' room, and he was still waiting on her. He shifted restlessly in his seat and glanced back in the direction of the ladies' room, but still, nothing.

  "You know how women can be when they go to the restroom," Kevin said, obviously sensing his impatience. "She's probably fussing with her hair and makeup."

  Primping just wasn't Christine's thing. Sure, she always looked like a million bucks, but she wasn't one to spend a whole lot of time in front of a mirror. Something just wasn't settling right with him.

  "Either that, or one of the guests waylaid her to wish her a happy birthday," Ronnie suggested.

  "Could be." He knew it was possible that she'd gotten sidetracked, but something was gnawing at those instincts within him, and he wasn't about to ignore them. "I'm going to go to look for her."

  He strolled back toward the restrooms and glanced around the general area. He circled the dance floor and then into the main bar area to check there, too. Still, there was no sign of Christine, and he blew out a frustrated stream of breath in order to keep his growing anxiety at bay.

  One of the bar waitresses passed by him with a tray full of drinks. He recognized the woman as Jodie, who'd delivered cocktails to their table a few times tonight. Pretty much everyone at Envy thought that he was Christine's boyfriend, and he used that to his advantage now.

  He stopped the young woman, who looked up at him with a harried smile. "Hi, Jodie. Have you seen Christine?" he asked hopefully.

  "Actually, yes I have," she replied. "Mr. Crosby had me take her down to the wine cellar to pick out a bottle of champagne for her birthday. That was a while ago, so I can't imagine that she'd still be there, though."

  Just the mention of Craig's name had Ben's stomach twisting into huge, gigantic knots. "Was Craig with her?"

  "Not when I left her there, though I did see Craig go in that direction soon after, probably to help her pick out one of the champagne's from his private collection."

  It was clear to Ben that Jodie was oblivious to Craig's nefarious side. "Look, I need you to take me to wherever the wine cellar is."

  "Can it wait a few minutes?" She indicated her tray, brimming with bottles of beers and other cocktails. "I've got to get this drink order delivered."

  "No, it can't." Ben didn't have a few minutes to wait, or to waste. "I need you to take me there, now," he said urgently. "Christy might be in trouble."

  A startled look passed over Jodie's features, but thankfully she didn't argue, or try to assure him that Christine was okay. Instead, she caught the attention of another bar waitress and asked the other woman to deliver the drinks for her. Then she led the way down a private corridor behind the main bar. They came to a stop at the last door at the end of the hallway.

  "Here's the cellar. I left the door open. I really do doubt they're here." she said, even as she fished a key ring from her front apron pocket. "But if it makes you feel better, we can double-check to be sure."

  "Thanks." Ben wasn't going anywhere until he knew for certain that Christine wasn't down in that cellar.

  She unlocked the door, and as soon as it opened Ben heard a woman's muffled attempt at yelling, some scuffling, then Craig spoke.

  "Who's up there?" he demanded harshly, making Ben realize that he couldn't see all the way up the stairs to the door, which worked to his advantage.

  Jodie was staring at Ben with wide, startled eyes. Apparently, she had come to the realization that Craig had set her up to get Christine down in the cellar alone. Ben nodded his head, indicating for her to reply.

  "It's Jodie, Mr. Crosby," she said, her voice steady despite the look of dismay on her face. "Is Christine down there with you?"

  "No, she's not," Craig replied in a crisp tone, and again there was another noise that sounded like he was trying to restrain or subdue someone. "She left a while ago. Now, I'd like some privacy down here and I don't want to be bothered or interrupted. Make sure everyone upstairs knows that."

  "Yes, Mr. Crosby."

  Jodie drew the door closed, but left it so that it didn't shut tightly and Ben could easily push it back open. When she glanced back at him, her panic inc
reased when she saw that he'd withdrawn the gun he'd had concealed.

  "Oh, my God," she whispered as tears welled in her eyes. "I honestly had no idea Mr. Crosby would do something like this."

  Ben just prayed that the other man hadn't hurt Christine in any way, because if he had, then Ben wouldn't be responsible for his actions. A slow, painful death wouldn't be near good enough for Craig.

  "Look, I'm a security agent," he said in a low voice, trying to keep Jodie calm so that she wouldn't go into hysterics, even as his own heart was beating frantically in his chest. "I need you to go to call the police. Tell them that there's a hostage situation at Envy, and you need them here immediately."

  She nodded in understanding, then headed back out to the main area. Ben waited until she was gone, then inhaled a deep, steady breath before quietly nudging the door back open again, his weapon poised and ready. It took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to just rush in, guns blazing, but he didn't know what the situation was like, or if Craig was armed. So, he cautiously made his way down the stairs, his entire body tensing at the sound of Christine pleading with Craig to stop whatever he was doing to her.

  Another step, and they came into view. Rage surged through Ben at the sickening sight of Craig's face buried against Christine neck, and his hands in places they had no business being. Craig's back was to Ben, so he couldn't shoot the other man because there was too great of a chance that the bullet would go straight through him to Christine, who he had pinned against the wall.

  He knew the exact moment that Christine saw him. Her eyes grew round, but she didn't say a word to give his presence away. Her hands looked as though they'd been restrained behind her back, rendering her helpless when it came to Craig's superior strength. She struggled against him, even tried to kick him, but it did her no good.

  Silently, he made his way down the rest of the stairs, his gun trained on Craig's back, right in the vicinity of his heart. He still didn't know if he had any kind of weapon, and that was the only thing that kept Ben from not charging over to the other man and ripping him away from Christine-then beating the living shit out of him.

  "Let her go, Crosby," Ben demanded.

  Craig moved quicker than Ben anticipated. He spun around, and at the same time he pulled Christine around too, so that she was standing in front of him like a human shield. Then he wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her secured in place.

  As far as Ben could see, Craig didn't have a weapon, but now Christine was in his direct line of fire. Her expression was terrified, and he noticed that the side of her face near her eye was red and puffy, and the straps of her dress had been torn off. Other than Craig putting his hands all over Christine, it appeared she was okay and unharmed. Thank God.

  "Ahhh, your knight in shining armor has arrived," Craig drawled sarcastically, his face nestled close to Christine's cheek. "Just in the nick of time, as always." Then his eyes narrowed into menacing slits as he glared at Ben. "God, I hate you!" he spat venomously. "Everything was going my way until you came along, stole Christy away, and screwed everything up!"

  The man was obviously a mental case, and Ben treaded lightly so that he didn't do or say something to send Craig over the edge. "It's over Craig. Let her go."

  "It's not over until I say it's over!" he yelled like a crazed man. Then he bent down, pulling Christine with him, and reached for something on the floor. When he straightened again, he held a sharp piece of broken glass in his hand. He touched the serrated edge to her cheek and pressed just enough to make Christine whimper from the sting of pain.

  "Put your gun down," Craig ordered, and dragged the blade down to the pulse beating in Christine's throat.

  Despite the threat, Ben refused to release the gun-it was the only leverage he had in this power play between them and he wasn't about to put Christine in such a vulnerable position. He refused to let anything bad happen to her, knowing he'd never be able to live with himself if Craig harmed her in any way.

  Images of Kim in Iraq during the ambush flashed in his head. In his mind's eye he saw her getting shot, then dying in his arms all over again. His throat started to close up with guilt, and he swallowed it back. He couldn't change the past or bring Kim back, but he was determined that his situation with Christine would end much differently… if only he could get a clear shot at Craig.

  Ben looked into Christine's eyes, seeing the fear there, but also a strength and fortitude that made him proud, as well as an innate faith in his ability to defend her, to protect and save her. She believed in him, trusted in him, and it was those undiluted emotions that were nearly his undoing.

  But then she closed her eyes and he watched her relax just the slightest bit, just enough to let him know without words what she was about to do-give him the clearance he needed to take Craig down.

  In the meantime, Ben tried to reason with Craig until the opportunity presented itself. "Look, you let her go, and you can walk a free man," he lied, knowing he would do everything within his power to make sure that Craig spent decades behind bars, where he belonged. "There's no reason to hurt Christine."

  "I'm not giving her up! She's mine," Craig ranted furiously. "And if I can't have her, no one will. Especially not you!"

  During Craig's bitter outburst, he waved the sharp piece of glass in the air, using it to punctuate the resentment and vehemence of his words and leaving Christine free to complete her maneuver. In that unguarded moment, she unexpectedly went limp in Craig's arms, dropping like a lead weight and throwing him off balance-mentally and physically. She slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor, and as soon as she was out of the way, and before Craig could comprehend what had just happened, Ben pulled the trigger and shot the other man in the left shoulder.

  Craig dropped the shard of glass in his hand and howled in pain as the bullet penetrated flesh and bone. Christine scrambled away the best she could with her hands tied behind her back, and when Craig took a step toward her once again, Ben stopped him cold before he could touch her.

  "That was just a warning shot, asshole," Ben said, keeping his gun aimed high and pointed right between Craig's eyes. "You go anywhere near Christine before the cops arrive and I'll blow your fucking head off." And he meant it, too.

  Obviously not wanting to test Ben's threat, Craig pressed a hand over his wound and slid along the wall to the floor, a defeated, broken man.

  IT was nearly two hours later before Christine could finally go home. Soon after Ben shot Craig the police arrived and took him into custody. Statements had to be taken, reports had to be filled out, and because the cops had piqued the curiosity of her friends, she stopped to explain what had happened, and assure them that she was okay.

  As soon as she and Ben arrived back at her house, she asked him to wait while she took a shower and changed into something more comfortable. Her legs were sticky from the champagne she'd dropped, and she had a few minor cuts from the shattered glass that she needed to wash. Overall, she just wanted to scrub away the overwhelming unpleasantness of the entire night and start out fresh and clean with Ben.

  She no longer needed a bodyguard or a pretend boyfriend. What she wanted now with Ben was the real deal and something she'd never had with any other man before him. A best friend she loved spending time with and could confide her deepest secrets to, knowing they'd be safe with him. A generous lover who complemented her on so many sexual, intimate levels. A committed relationship based on love, respect, and trust.

  But it was clear as she walked back into the kitchen and saw his businesslike stance against the far counter, and the impassive look in his eyes, that he'd already retreated from her and any of the feelings that had taken root and blossomed between them in their time together. This distant man in front of her with his emotional walls erected sky-high was not the warm, attentive, accessible man she'd just spent the past three weeks with. Instead, this was a man who was running scared and refused to face his past in order to have a future… with her.

  Still,
she was determined that he wasn't going to leave tonight without her giving him the two things he needed most in his life-her heart and her unconditional love. Whether he accepted her gift or not was entirely up to him.

  With that in mind, she walked toward him and stopped a few feet away. She'd put on a pair of old sweatpants and an equally ancient pullover hoodie for warmth. Her hair was still damp and she'd washed all her makeup off her face in the shower. All traces of the sophisticated woman he was used to seeing were gone, and in her place was the person she was beneath all the exterior trappings: a plain and simple girl who ached to be loved and cared for by this man.

  His gaze roamed over her face and came to a stop on the swollen, bluish-purple mark on the right side of her cheek where Craig had hit her, which would eventually match the bruises still on her shoulder and stomach, courtesy of Jason.

  Ben gave her a lopsided grin, but didn't reach out and touch her as she wished he would. "What is it about you that turns men into psychopaths?" he teased, obviously trying to keep things light and easy between them.

  "Must be my sparkling personality," she said with equal amounts of humor. "But don't worry, as far as I know, there's no more jilted men lurking out there."

  "Good thing." His expression turned much too serious. "Are you going to be okay?"

  Physically, she knew she'd heal. Emotionally, though, she had a feeling that it was going to take her a very long time to recover from the pain tightening like a vise around her heart.

  "I'm fine," she assured him. "It'll take more than a shiner or a couple of shots with a paintball gun to do me in. I'm not all fluff, you know."

  A low, rough rumble of laughter escaped him. "Yeah, you're one tough cookie."

  She realized how strong she'd become over the past few weeks-internally and mentally-and knew she had Ben and his support and encouragement to thank for a lot of her transformation. "I guess I'm just done with letting people walk all over me. I've had enough and I'm not taking it anymore," she said playfully.