Bound For Me

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Bound For Me Page 11

by Natalie Anderson


  “Conservative. You never fool around. Never take risks like that.”

  Like what—fucking the enemy in the back seat of his car? “Am I a coward then? Boring?”

  Hunter looked wary. “Connor, if you want me to stick around a couple days—”

  “Thanks but you finally got a lead on your coffee queen. And I got this. I have nothing to hide. I’ve never done anything outside the law. Nor has Rex.”

  “Doesn’t mean he’s not a bastard.”

  Connor closed the door after Hunter, hating that his buddy was always right.

  He was going to check on her.

  He took the SUV and slowly drove along the snowy roads to her apartment. He’d silenced her last night and that had surprised him. He was sure she wasn’t about to give up already, she’d come too far and was too strong for that.

  But the way she’d answered his kiss, the way she’d lost herself in his touch made him burn.

  That was the one way he could get to her.

  He remembered her whispered desire to forget it all when she’d not known who he was. That need for escape had lit an answering wish deep within him. That’s what he wanted again. To drown in the heat of her body, revel in the downright animal intensity of her drive—she’d fucked her way to forgetting everything. With him.

  So even though she brought threat, she also offered respite. Because for just a few more moments he didn’t want to have to think. Didn’t want to be responsible. But he was responsible not just for his company, but the whole damn mountain. And he wasn’t going to let Savannah Nash damage any of it. Not even slightly.

  But perhaps the cause of his problem could also offer the solution.

  He’d keep this enemy very, very close.

  He banged on her door, not stopping the pounding for a full five minutes.

  “Alright.” She shouted.

  Finally. He glanced down at his fist, stretched out his fingers and grimaced.

  “Go away Connor.” Her voice came muffled through the door.

  She must have looked through the peephole.

  “No,” he answered flatly.

  “What?” She snapped as she opened the door. “It’s early and I was sleeping.”

  Stunned he took in the brevity of her clothing. Tank top. Panties. Both black. Both tiny. Both clinging to her slim curves. She looked so sexy and tousled, he was hard in an instant. “Are you alone in there?”

  Fury flashed in her eyes.

  Good. That made two of them feeling it. Again.

  “You didn’t answer my text,” he said.

  “Because I was asleep.”

  “I can see that.” He rubbed his head, thrown by all that glorious skin. He’d not seen this much of her the other night. His tongue gummed to the roof of his mouth. Adrenalin juiced through his muscles, priming him to the point of pain.

  “What did you want—to warn me off some more? It won’t work.” She took the aggressive stance.

  His anger bubbled. “Who’s going to listen to a word you say now? And you know what they’re going to say about you.”

  “Ah, the old, double standard.” She nodded. “Because I was slutty enough to have a one night stand with you, nothing I can say can be believed?” She wrinkled her pretty nose. “What makes you think I give a damn about what anyone says about me?” She stepped into the open doorway, her almost naked body exposed to anyone walking by. “It can’t be anything worse than what’s been thrown at me before,” she sneered. “But here’s the thing, Connor. Mud sticks. Even if it’s me, your ‘once-only’ throwing the mud. Some of the mud will still stick. Some of what I can say will make people pause. Make people question. So there’ll be damage. Don’t doubt that.”

  Goddamn she turned him on. Like some half-naked Valkyrie, she stood with her head held high, proud and unashamed of her actions. Relishing her threat.

  His hands curled into fists and he punched them into his jacket pocket to stop himself shoving her back through the doorway and taking her hard against the wall.

  He wanted her. Now. Screw the consequences and stupid complications.

  All that mattered was getting hold of her and working all that fantastic energy and passion.

  And for all the other mess to just melt away for those moments when he was in her.

  Rein. It. In.

  He’d control this. He was not his father.

  “The only things about to suffer damage right now, are your extremities.” He tried to play it cool. His gaze ran over her. “Maybe you better get some clothes on, you look… chilled.”

  “Not at all,” she answered softly. “The cold can’t hurt me.” She smiled wickedly. “And I’m going straight back to bed.”

  The vixen knew he was burning and had decided to stoke the flames. And that changed everything. That she wanted it as much as he?

  “Best place for you,” he murmured huskily, ready to push her back through the doorway and kiss her all the way to yes.

  But his phone buzzed.

  Saved by the freaking bell.

  He pulled it out. Hunter’s name flashed at the top of the screen, but it was the text that stunned him.

  Spotted three amateur pharmacists in Penworth. Thought you’d want to know.

  Those assholes who’d hurt Savannah? Connor’s muscles snapped. Penworth was another resort only an hour or so’s drive away. Less than half an hour in the helicopter. He shoved his phone back in his pocket.

  “I have to go.” He swivelled on his heel, not looking at her again else he wouldn’t leave at all. “I’ll check on you later.”

  “Don’t bother.”

  Oh god, she was going to kill him with her attitude. He was fucking it out of her. Soon.

  “Of course I’ll bother.” He turned on the bottom step, still not letting himself look again. “We have unfinished business.”

  But he had other unfinished business to see to first.

  Chapter Ten

  Savannah bristled and slammed the door. She didn’t want to be checked on later like some problem child. She’d wanted him to step inside and press her against the wall. Kiss her. Touch her. Take her.

  And for a moment, he’d looked like he was about to. And he’d looked as pissed off as she felt. She’d wanted to vent her anger and frustration on him. Use him again to find those moments of mindlessness and release. That relief.

  Stupid, stupid body.

  Snatches of the night’s dreams flashed in her mind. Connor had featured in every one. But he’d walked away without a second glance.

  Unfinished business?

  It wasn’t sex he was talking about. It was her threats. Empty threats.

  What did she think she could really say about his father? She had no real dirt on him. Nothing other than the poor taste of dishing out share tips like he was tossing after dinner mints to beggars outside a banquet. But the arrogance of it galled her.

  She’d spent the night wondering about Connor. The icicle? Was he really a workaholic?

  It didn’t fit with the idea she had of him as being a spoilt playboy. Hadn’t he been born into an empire? He’d never had to go a day wondering where the next rent check was coming from because he owned the whole freaking town… he wasn’t that driven, was he?

  When she went into work Luca smiled at her. “Thanks so much, last night was a record for us.”

  “Great.” What with the entertainment she and Connor had provided and all, everyone had been extra thirsty. She readied the bar, gave Dante another lesson. Tried to keep as busy as possible.

  But there was the door-checking thing.

  Every. Single. Time… that freaking door opened she looked up—her heart seizing.

  Every. Single. Time… it wasn’t him, she breathed again.

  Connor didn’t show for the entire shift. She was not disappointed. It wasn’t like she’d been mentally sparring with him all day. Thinking up come-backs to imaginary accusations and flirts. Nope. None of that.

  She worked hard, glaring at
Luca when he dared ask if she was feeling alright. If she was okay for a ride home.

  “I’ll be fine.” Back on her own. Just the way she liked it.

  And the sooner she got the bar tidied, the sooner she’d be walking swiftly home alone again.

  Two minutes past closing, Connor walked in. Damn doorman must’ve thought he was on staff or something.

  “You serve him,” she told Luca.

  “I don’t think that’s what he wants.”

  “I don’t care if that’s not what he wants,” she snapped.

  But Luca was already walking out to the kitchen.

  “Traitor,” she called after him.

  Connor stepped up to the bar. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “Late?” She pressed her hands on the wood. “What are you late for?”

  “A really cold reception.” He smiled. “I’ll take a beer.”

  She turned and pulled one from the fridge.

  But when she put the bottle on the bar she saw the swollen, bruised knuckles on his left hand. Her heart skidded as her blood turned to icy slush. “What did you do to yourself?”

  He stretched out his fingers with a wince, then curled them round the bottle. “What do you think I did?”

  She didn’t want to think. “I’m not a fan of violence.”

  “Nor am I.”

  She hesitated. “Was it...”

  “The jerk who put that crap in your drink? Yes. It was.”

  “Did you go after him?”

  “Yes.”

  Appalled, Savannah’s head spun. What had he been thinking? Those guys were psychopaths.

  He really thought he was King of the Mountain, didn’t he? Like it was his freaking duty to take care of each of his subjects? “I didn’t need you going off to protect my honor.”

  His lips twisted. “But I was honor bound to help you.”

  Bound by what? “You can take your honor and shove it in a small, dark place.” She shook her head. “Violence doesn’t make it better.”

  “I didn’t go for vengeance.” Connor took a sip of his beer and then sighed. “He jumped me. Got a few shots in before I laid him out.”

  She stared disbelievingly at his perfect face. “Oh yeah, because that’s some black eye you’ve got there.”

  “You want to see what I got?” He challenged her.

  Suddenly she was nervous. But she couldn’t look away from his eyes.

  “Come ‘round here and see.” He dared her to deny him.

  But she couldn’t. She wanted to know.

  Slowly she walked around the bar and over to the stool where he perched awkwardly.

  He lifted the bottom of his tee. Shadows darkened the skin around his ribs, large purplish bruises. So many. She winced at the raw graze streaking down his side.

  “He came at me from behind. Like the coward he is. Got a few kicks in before I could get to my feet and take him out.” He let go of the shirt and it dropped down.

  But the bruises were imprinted on her brain.

  “Where is he now?” It was pathetic, but she whispered. Her blood had run cold at the sight of the purple contusions covering his skin.

  “In custody. They also got to check the closed circuit cameras from the street. Saw him with your drink bottle. They have the evidence they need to get him. For attacking me. And you.”

  Relief was so strong, but it was swamped by an anger so extreme her knees shook. And she couldn’t dare speak.

  “Self-defense,” he said. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel some satisfaction in knocking him out.” He lifted his beer and took a slow, deliberate sip before putting the bottle back on the wood. “I’ve never been as angry as I was when I saw you drugged like that. So yeah, part of me enjoyed taking him down. Like me less now?”

  She didn’t answer. Didn’t know how to.

  She wanted to touch his wounds. Caress them. Ease the aches away with gentle kisses.

  He looked at her. “Doesn’t the knight get a reward from the princess, for his bravery?”

  Freaking mind-reader. “Thuggery.”

  “Just told you it was self-defense.”

  “Just told me you enjoyed it.” She was the one employing all self-defensive measures now.

  “I can’t bear thinking about what could have happened to you,” he muttered.

  “Don’t.” She stepped close—unable to resist—and pressed her fingers to his mouth. “I don’t need your nightmares as well.”

  “As well?” His frown deepened. “Savannah...”

  “Don’t.” She dropped her hand.

  But he stood and caught her fingers with his. “I wasn’t going to come here tonight. Told myself I should stay away until tomorrow. Daylight.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re dangerous.”

  “Little old me?” She tried to joke. “You think I grow fangs when the moon appears?”

  “Dangerous,” he repeated. “And so desirable you distract me.” His expression hardened. “Two separate issues. So perhaps we treat them separately.”

  Separately? “Is that possible?”

  “Definitely. Danger first.”

  “Why am I dangerous?” Just this second she was struggling to remember why she was here.

  “You’re the one who came looking for me.” he reminded her quietly. “What’s the mud?”

  She paused, surprised.

  “Don’t I have a right to know what you have on me?”

  “You’ve read my father’s letters.”

  “An illegible tirade from an inexperienced investor who didn’t do his duty. Have you read them?”

  She shook her head. But she could imagine. She knew her father had his faults. But he’d been vulnerable. “Your father—”

  “And by extension me?”

  “Maybe,” she conceded. “Your father sells a dream to people who can never achieve it. For so much money. He preys on vulnerable people. He stands up there doing his speeches, making out like he’s the ‘Oracle of Summerhill’ or something. Don’t you have enough money?”

  “So you came here to see if it’s all true?”

  She nodded. “I want to see if it’s as amazing and perfect as it appears in the ‘be like me’ seminars he charges a fortune for. He makes it sound like it’s this magical place where nothing goes wrong… where it’s perfect. And that anyone can achieve it.”

  “But you don’t think that’s true?”

  “Of course it’s not. It’s a fairytale.”

  He leaned closer, so close she could feel the strength emanating from him. Wounded warrior or not. “So you’re not a believer in the happy-ever-after, then?”

  “No.”

  “And you don’t think Summerhill can possibly be all that?”

  She shook her head.

  “Come to the Lodge tomorrow. You can ask me anything, see anything. Access all areas.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “As I’ve already said, I have nothing to hide,” he answered. “Do you? Anything you’re not telling me?”

  She shook her head. Nothing that was relevant.

  “I think we can get this cleared up pretty quickly,” he said. “My father loves giving after dinner speeches…”

  “And being paid lots of money to do so.”

  “But that’s not illegal. Everyone knows you should get professional advice. No one is going to give a damn about some guy who made some poor investment decisions. That’s not my father’s fault.”

  That was the point. No one did give a damn. That’s what made it so wrong.

  “Come see it properly for yourself. Then judge.”

  She did want to see it. From a personal angle and a professional one. For so long her father had held it up as the ultimate.

  “I think you’re going to be disappointed. Because Summerhill is everything my father says it is.”

  “Okay. I’ll come tomorrow.”

  “Then that just leaves the desire,” he ran his finger across her w
rist. “Don’t try to deny it.”

  No. And maybe if she could get the desire out of the way, she could concentrate on the real issue. But she didn’t trust him. “You think I’ll say yes to you now in thanks? Reward the weary warrior?”

  He winced. “So tough. Are you really unfazed by what happened?”

  Of course she wasn’t. “I don’t think about it.”

  He looked disbelieving. “How do you stop yourself from thinking about it?”

  “I think about other things.”

  “Such as?”

  She hesitated. Remembered his outrageous tease with the ice last night. And decided to push play. “You.”

  “How you’re going to make me pay?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I think about you. Naked. Chained to my bed.”

  He drew in a deep breath. “I can see how thinking about that might be better.” He leaned his head from side to side, stretching his muscles. “I can work with the idea, but I vote for silk cords over steel chains.”

  She shook her head. “I like the fantasy better than reality.”

  “Just thinking is enough?” His eyebrows skyrocketed.

  She shrugged.

  “The reality is better. We both know this.”

  “Connor?” Footsteps sounded, coming nearer.

  “Go away Luca. I’m seducing your bartender.”

  “Savannah?”

  “Go away Luca. I’m turning down this customer.”

  Luca laughed. “Good luck with that.” Footsteps sounded, retreating. “Both of you.”

  “You slept with me to try to disarm me,” she said to Connor as soon as she was sure Luca had left.

  “Not true and as you rightly pointed out this morning, it wouldn’t work anyway,” he said. “Your thirst for vengeance aside, you want me. And I want you. There’s no denying the chemistry. You make out you’re teasing, but you know you mean it.”

  “You only wanted once,” she reminded him.

  “I changed my mind.”

  “It was the chains, wasn’t it.”

  “No. I’d changed my mind the second you left my car the other night. It wasn’t enough. I want more.”

  “More sex.”

  “Absolutely more sex. Lots more. We have ourselves a situation, Savannah. If you don’t face a situation and resolve it. It can become an obsession.”

 

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