If only I knew who’d kidnapped him, who held him prisoner. But I don’t know the villain of this piece. All I’ve received are anonymous notes addressed to me. Sometimes left at work in a desk drawer¸ other times slipped under the door of the bungalow. They all include the same things, a photo of the boy, about three years old, thin but tall for his age. He looks so much like his father, Edward. Every time I open the envelopes with the by now familiar script, the image tears through me. Because I know what the consequence could be. If I fail, if I don’t do as they say, he will be tortured and killed.
I received the last note a week ago before Jake’s arrival. I fear his presence and my extra guards will stop future correspondence from reaching me. The genesis of my bad dream stems from that fear. Because as bad as getting those notes are, not getting them would be worse.
But that’s not the only thing worrying me. I also fear what Jake will do. Because he will not give up. He’ll get to the truth. And when he does, the child’s life will be forfeit. So I’ll have to drive him away, drive him away for good. Every man has an Achilles heel. I just have to figure out his.
Somehow having made that decision, I manage to fall asleep. I step out of my bedroom in the morning to find Jake, seated on one of the dinette chairs, waiting for me. “We need to talk.” He’s already bathed and dressed, his beard trimmed neatly, nothing like last night’s scruff.
“Nothing to talk about.” I shrug as I make my way to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.
“I want to apologize for last night. I shouldn’t have ... done what I did.”
I turn and lean back against the kitchen counter. “Fucked me, you mean? Don’t worry about it. It meant nothing. Less than nothing.”
He reels back as if I’ve punched him in the gut.
Did his ego take a hit? Only one way to find out. I pin a smile on my face and cross my arms against my chest. “You’re good. But I’ve had better. A lot better.”
His gaze narrows. “You’re lying. You enjoyed what we did.”
I laugh. “You think there aren’t men out there who’re better at screwing than you?”
Crossing his arms across his chest, he takes his time studying me before he speaks again. “You cried out in your sleep last night. Like you were having a nightmare.”
“Not a nightmare. Pain woke me up. You might want to take it easy on the next woman you shag.” I’m still sore this morning, but I love it. I loved what he did to me. I touch my upper arm, my thigh where he ... I shiver at the memory of his hands on my skin, yanking apart my legs, so he could thrust into me.
The expression on his face turns contrite, and he drops his arms against his side. “I’m sorry.”
I pour the aromatic brew into a cup, drop a dollop of cream into it and take a sip before I answer. “Don’t be. I needed a workout. And you gave it to me. Well, I better take a shower and find something to cover up these bruises.” I point to the marks on my arms, the ones he put there last night.
His repentant silence follows me back to the bedroom. Somehow I manage to hold it together until I close the door. And then I fall apart. The sight of him freshly shaved, smelling of that spicy cologne I love. My insides ache with the need to have him inside me. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to stop me from going out there and beg him to do it all over again. He’d been a beast last night. Not once asking my permission to do what he liked with me. I’d lied about having better. I’ve never fucked a man like him. He’d consumed me, possessed me, owned me like no one before. And I’d loved every second of it.
That night I crawl into bed hoping for a repeat of the night before, but he doesn’t come home until I’m fast asleep. Through the following week, the same pattern repeats. He’s staying out late on purpose. So he won’t be tempted to fuck me. Oh, I have no illusions about why he shagged me before. The first time was to ‘service’ me, and the second time because drink weakened his resolve. I’d teased him with the dildo. And being a man, Jake couldn’t resist. But now that iron will of his is calling the shots. So I can stop hoping for a sex marathon.
The weeks roll by with no Jake in my bed or my room. He’s stashed his clothes where he doesn’t need to enter my space any more. My sex toys don’t give me any satisfaction. Not when my pussy craves the real thing.
Not only am I horny as hell, but the notes have stopped altogether. After not getting one for several weeks, my anxiety level has grown to the point the nightmares occur nightly now, often waking me up from the hell of my dreams. Jake hasn’t mentioned hearing me cry out in my sleep, but I think he’s heard me because every morning he makes a point of inquiring after my health. I always offer the same reply. “Fine.”
Other than early morning, I don’t see him at all during the day. I don’t know what he does with his time. He assigns others to guard me—Hamish, Todd, two other operatives. Two of them follow me around all day. I have to be the most boring assignment they’ve had. My daily routine consists of eating breakfast before heading to my office where I spend the rest of the day. At night, after dinner, I return to the bungalow, shower and crawl into bed where I try to sleep. Sometimes I hear Jake come in late at night, but not always. I wish ... oh, it doesn’t matter what I wish.
After three weeks of this torture, I reach my bungalow one night after dinner to find a basket of freshly-laundered clothes waiting for me. Nothing unusual. I have an arrangement with a woman from the local village. Once a week, she fetches my dirty laundry. It always comes back smelling like sunshine. She probably airs it on a clothesline to dry. Today is no different. I grab a blouse and breathe it in, but before I have a chance to hang it up, an envelope drops from its breast pocket.
I gasp at the familiar handwriting scribbled across the front. In a frenzy, I tear it open, eager to see the photo and the note. This one shows the child seated at a table, a bowl filled with cereal and milk in front of him. He’s not happy going by his frown and the downturn to his lips. Somebody stands off camera. Someone whose face I can’t see. As always a Brazilian newspaper rests on the table to let me know at least as of two days ago, he was still alive.
“What’s that?” Jake’s deep voice booms from the entrance to my room.
What is he doing here this early? It’s only seven o’clock. I take my time slipping the photo into the envelope and the note. I’ll need to hide it in my hidey hole. A spot he doesn’t know about and he’ll never think of looking. “Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. You jumped when you heard me.” He moves forward as if he means to snatch the note from me.
“You startled me.” I stuff the envelope into the clothing basket and hitch up my chin. “It’s a note from my lover. If you must know.”
“Your lover?” His mouth twists as if the word has a foul taste.
“Yes. I met him a couple of months ago. He’s been on a business trip and just returned. He wants to meet at our usual rendezvous.”
“Uh-huh.” He widens his stance and folds those muscular arms of his across his chest. “And where do you rendezvous?”
“At the corner of ‘None of your business’ and ‘Wouldn’t you like to find out?’ My voice comes out high and tight. And my body’s strung tight as a bowstring, petrified as I am he’ll demand the envelope.
He barks out a laugh. “I believe the word you’re looking for is bodyguard. It’s my job to keep track of you.”
“This”—I point to the basket and the supposed note from my paramour— “has nothing to do with you being my bodyguard.”
“I won’t know that until I check him out. What’s his name? Where does he live?”
I hitch up my chin. “I’m not answering you.”
“He doesn’t exist, does he?”
When I don’t answer, he calmly states, “You’re lying about this mystery lover, about other things as well.”
“Am not.”
His eyes go all warm and caring. He cups my jaw in one of those big hands of his. “You’ve lost weight. Shadows mar the skin
under your eyes. What’s going on, bright eyes?”
I jerk my chin from his grasp. “Nothing. Now please leave. I’d like to put away my clothes and take a shower.”
His mouth curls in a sneer. “Fine. Just so you know, I don’t believe you.”
Yeah, I didn’t think he would.
Chapter 12
______________
Jake
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, I’m on the way to the warehouse to perform a more thorough investigation when Hamish’s voice screeches out of my walkie talkie. “BREAKER1-9. Jake Cooper. Do you copy?”
An old-fashioned method of communication, but necessary when cell towers and satellites fail in this part of the world. I grab my unit from the passenger’s seat and press the ‘Talk’ button. “10-4. Good buddy.”
“Bird’s flown the coop. Heading east on her Jeep along the back road. Unable to pursue.”
Fuck. Brianna escaped her guards. No time to inquire as to the whys and hows. “Roger that. I’m in the vicinity. Will pursue. Over and out.” I toss the walkie talkie on the seat and race toward the road in question which borders the back of the compound and leads into the bush. Five minutes later, I spot her about fifty yards ahead. Driving like a bat out of hell.
Damn. This road is unpaved, rutted with holes from recent rains. She could blow a tire, be thrown from the jeep. When she dodges one pothole, the car tips. Somehow she manages to maintain control and right the all-terrain vehicle. I pound on my horn, hoping she’ll take it as a warning to slow down, but she does just the opposite and speeds up. Stubborn witch. An eternity into the hair-raising drive, she comes to a jarring stop at a favorite spot of hers—the waterfalls.
Seconds behind her, I jump out of the Jeep and pound dirt toward her before she has a chance to run away. I grab her arm, swing her around. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You could have been killed driving that recklessly.”
Flashing those baby blues of hers, she jerks her arm free. “Leave me alone, Jake.”
Fearless. Gotta give her that. Right now I’d love nothing more than to bend her over my knee and give her the spanking she deserves, and she knows it. “What are you doing? It’s dangerous out here without your guards.”
She hitches up her chin, defiant to the end. “If you must know, I’m meeting my lover.”
Still beating that dead horse? “Are you? Where’s he then?” I don’t bother to look around, not when her ‘lover’ is something she created out of thin air.
“He’s running late. Should be here any minute. So you’d better go.”
“I’m not leaving without you.”
Her mouth shapes into that siren smile of hers, and she peeks up at me through her eyelashes. Damn her. “You want to watch then? Or even better. Participate. He’s got a really clever tongue.” She curls her tongue around her teeth, and all I can think about is that mouth of hers sucking my cock, swallowing my cum.
My frayed temper snaps, and I shake her. “Stop it. Stop this childish behavior.”
She cuts loose with that deep throated laugh of hers, the one sure to get a cockstand out of a dying man. “Nothing childish about a menage. Just think the two of you fucking me, one in my cunt, the other in my—”
Furious with her antics, I drag her over to a rock, pick her up and bend her over my knee.
“What the bloody hell are you doing, Jake?” She squirms and twists but to no avail. My hold’s too strong on her.
“What I should have done before. Spank you. You like that, don’t you?”
Her breath saws in and out of her. “You can’t do this.”
But I’m not listening, not in the mood I’m in. My hand flies and lands on her squirming ass.
“Bloody hell. That hurt.” She twists, trying to get free.
“It’s supposed to. This one is going to hurt even more.” My hand descends with even more force and she jumps beneath my hand. “Your teasing is costing Storm Industries a costly delay.” Whack. “The only way to stop you is to discipline you.” Whack. “I should have taken you over my knee and administered your punishment when I first arrived.” Whack.
“Jake, please stop. This isn’t right. Not like this.”
Whack.
“I’ll tell Gabriel. He’ll fire you.”
“He can’t fire me. I’m not working for him.”
Whack.
“Ouch! He didn’t ask you to do this.”
“Your brother told me to handle the situation.” I grab her jaw. “I’m handling it,” I say just before my lips crush hers.
Lost in the wild taste of her, I ease my hold which gives her the opening she needs. She breaks free and backs up toward the water until she can’t go any farther. Her gaze darts between me and the deep lagoon. It’s deep, dark, and churning from the waterfall. She knows better than to jump in, doesn’t she?
Afraid of what she’ll do, I hold out my hand. “Come away from the edge, Brianna.”
She rubs her posterior as her eyes fill with suspicious moisture. “You shouldn’t have hit me.”
Damn. I pushed her too hard. “Look. I’m sorry. You’re right.” I stand and take a step toward her. One more and she’ll be within reach.
Her breath hitches. “I don’t want that. Not from you.”
The ‘you’ gets to me. What makes me so different from all those boy toys she loves to fuck. “Why not?” I truly want to know.
She shakes her head. Tears shimmer in her eyes. “You’re supposed to protect me, not hurt me.” I reach out to comfort her and only get a second’s warning before her blade descends on me. I jerk away before the blade can find my flesh. “Fuck.”
Her eyes flash with triumph. “You shouldn’t have beaten me, you blighter.”
Witch. The tears, her contrite expression had all been an act guaranteed to lull me into letting down my guard. And like an idiot, I fell for it. Beyond angry, I yank the blade from her hand, bury it in the dirt. Knowing that’s not the only sharp instrument she’s hiding, I tear off her blouse looking for more knives. Sure enough, a weapons belt’s strapped around her waist. I tear that off her as well, throw it on the ground. “Anything else?”
“Fuck you, Jake Cooper.”
I yank the edge of her pants, rip them off. Another blade’s attached to her back. I toss that away as well. Only when she’s standing tall and naked in front of me am I certain she holds no more weapons. As I stare at the perfect body, my blood boils, my breath grows short. With lust, anger? Who knows? She’s tanned all over. No surprise. She loves to be naked. A trimmed blonde thatch adorns her pussy. Her tits are just big enough to fit a man’s hand. They’re perfect like the rest of her. Her rosy nipples beckon and my mouth waters for a taste. She doesn’t wiggle or jerk but stands calmly, chin held high, while I take my fill of her.
God, she’s magnificent! And I know right then and there she’s mine. No matter what she is, no matter what she’s done, she’s mine for eternity.
A strange expression crosses her face—one I’ve never seen before. She turns and, in one clean dive, jumps into the water.
“Damn and blast it.” The lagoon has a wicked undertow. She’s an expert swimmer, but she’d be no match against a strong current. I rip off my blasted boots and dive in after her, desperate to save the vixen before the riptide claims her.
With punishing strokes I eat up the water even as I keep my eye on her. Surprisingly, she’s holding her own, which tells me she knows where to swim so she won’t get caught in the treacherous rush. As she pulls out on the other side, I catch up to her. She kicks at me, and I release her. She’s got nowhere to go after all. There’s nothing on this side of the lagoon but the jungle, and she’s not stupid enough to run into that.
As I climb out of the water, she scoots backwards on her ass and elbows along the grass, her gaze never wavering from mine. “Leave me the hell alone, Jake.”
“Not happening.” I stalk toward her, not once glancing away from my prize.
“Fuck you.”
“With pleasure, bright eyes.” I drop to the ground and, on all fours, crawl over her luscious body. Mindful she may come at me even without her blades, I capture her hands and hold them hostage above her head. Her squiggles beneath me adds fuel to my fire. No way she’s stopping this, not any more. My mouth swoops down and takes possession of her mouth. She tastes of everything I’ve ever wanted and nothing I can allow myself to have.
She stops struggling and returns the kiss, tangling her tongue with mine, nibbling my bottom lip. But then she stops and stares at me. “Why do you keep doing this, Jake?”
“Doing what?” I grind my hard on against her. Damn she feels good beneath me.
“Fucking me only to walk away. As you probably will once more.” She sounds sad, but I’m not falling for her antics again. It’s all an act.
And I’m not about to bare my heart to her. She’d probably laugh before she stomped it to death. I shrug like there’s no deep significance to making love to her. “You’re a beautiful woman and great in the sack. Do I have to have another reason?”
“I think there’s more. But you won’t say.” Her finger caresses my lower lip. I suck it into my mouth, nibble it. Her eyes turn a stormy blue. Taking a chance she won’t take a bite out of me, I lean in and breathe her scent.
Her peach perfume blends in with the smell of the earth reminding me there’s nothing between her and the grass. I retrieve a foiled condom from my shorts before I take them off, remove my shirt and slide my clothes under her. It’s not much protection against the ground, but it will have to do.
I roll on the condom, cover her with my body, wrap her legs around me. She doesn’t bother to struggle. Just lies there staring at me.
My honor, choked down by my lust and anger, rears its head. I can’t take her. Not without her consent. “Tell me you want this.”
Storm Conquered Page 7
