by Lora Leigh
"Don't excuse anything he fucking did," Kell snarled. "Just tell me what the fuck happened."
Deuter had happened. He had been determined to rape her and thought he could hold her still by nearly breaking her arms. If it hadn't been for the training her father had given her when she was a teenager he would have managed it.
"He just scared me a little." Her lips trembled. He had terrified her. "That's all."
Kell had suffered an attack on one woman who had been important to him already. A wife who had died—as well as their unborn child. If she told him what Deuter had done, he would kill the other man. His voice had been tortured, guttural with pain, when he described what he had done to Tansy's killers that night.
"Are you going to make me ask him what happened. Emily?" he asked her softly. "I should warn you, I'm trained to get the answers I want. I know Deuter, it won't take long to break him."
Emily shuddered. No, breaking him would be easy, but Kell would make certain that killing him took a while. And it would be painful. Very painful.
"For God's sake, Kell," she snapped. "Let it go. Don't you think I would have told you if I wanted you to know?"
"No, I don't," he snarled. "Because you know I'd probably kill the little son of a bitch."
"And he's not worth it," she stated fiercely. "Now stop manhandling me before I get really pissed off. It's sexy as hell when you use it for sex, but using it to make me give you answers that should be my choice to give you, it's just wrong."
He frowned at her statement, loosening his grip. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"
"What else could it be? You don't control me so stop trying to convince me that you do."
"I don't want to control you." His lips quirked. "Though beginning to see the merits in it where you're concerned. And don't think for one minute that I won't find out what you're hiding."
"Fine, why don't I just go poking into your past?"
"It's like sex, Emily. If you want to know, just ask. Anything from the day I met you, till now, I don't care to answer. Just as anything that happened from the day I met you is defiantly my business."
"Which means most of my life." She pouted as he released her hands, watching as she began to rub her arms.
She stilled the movement. He hadn't touched her arms.
And he was too damned smart when it came to picking up clues to stuff.
"Is he the reason you're always rubbing at your arms as through you're trying to wipe away something dirty?"
Damn, damn, damn. She glared back at him. "I get cold easily, and sometimes you make me nervous."
His lips thinned. "Don't lie to me, Emily. I don't like it."
He would dislike the truth even more.
Emily sighed. "I dropped my wine. And aren't we here for a reason?"
"A reason that I'm beginning to believe is fucking stupid." he snapped. "No one can make a move in this crowd, and definitely no one intent on a kidnapping."
"We could find a tree to prop up," she suggested, fighting the nerves building within her.
"You're making me crazy." He sighed then, lowering his forehead to hers as his hands slid over her hips, his fingers gripping them firmly, holding her against him.
"No, that's the people here," she whispered, trying to inject just a little humor into the situation. "All those pesky women wanting a piece of you. I've heard it makes a man a little tense."
"One of these days, I really am going to paddle your ass for being so stubborn," he whispered.
Her rear clenched at the thought of the pleasure that could bring.
"So you keep saying," she whispered back, a real smile tugging at her lips. "I think you're too scared I'll like it."
"I know you'll like it." His lips lowered to her neck. "A lot."
Emily inhaled roughly as his lips slid over her neck, his tongue licking, stroking.
"Kell." She was breathing heavily now. "Umm, maybe we should mingle some more."
If one was going to protest, then she really shouldn't tilt her neck to the side to give him greater access to sensitive flesh. But that was what she did, her lashes fluttering as she struggled to keep them open against the pleasure suddenly rising inside her.
She loved it when he touched her, reveled in it, craved it. It was the culmination of every dream, every fantasy, she had ever known.
"Maybe," he growled into her neck a second before sharp teeth nipped with erotic heat. "In a minute."
He licked the little sting as she flowed against him, her body softening, moving against him, feeling the desire rising hot and fast inside her.
Between her thighs, she could feel her flesh heating, preparing her for him. Just that fast and easy. And now, if the world would just work with her a little here, and give her just a few minutes to enjoy this.
But it seemed the world working against her had other ideas.
Kell stiffened, his head rising dangerously as he turned protectively, glaring as the brush rustled and a feminine figure slipped inside their hiding place.
"Problems," Kira whispered, grimacing as she glanced at Emily. "Reno and the guys outside just busted the cutest little South American assassin. All scars and nasty threats.
He says Mr. White isn't here. I think Judas might have duped us."
Emily tensed, pressing her head against Kell's back as Kira gave the report.
"Let's get the hell out of here," Kell snarled, wrapping his arm around Emily's back and pulling her closer to his side. Where's Ian?"
"On the other side." She jerked her head toward the brush. He wasn't about to interrupt you."
Kell reached into his pocket, pulling free the small radio and ear clip. Putting it in place, he turned it on.
"Macey, are you there? We're heading out, bring the limo around."
Disconnecting the ear clip, he pocketed the radio once again and headed back into the garden before turning and advancing toward the house. Kira walked ahead of them, with Ian pulling in behind Kell.
They made an odd group. Emily dressed in her bronze silk gown, the flared skirt rustling over the petticoat she wore beneath it. Kira in snug black satin, and Kell and Ian in their dress suits. And she realized she was focusing on clothes when her stomach was knotting with tension.
Her gown was slit from her feet to her knees in the front, with the gathered skirt showing the darker petticoat and slip beneath.
Strapless, snug from her breasts to her thighs, it was more revealing than the gown she had worn to the previous party. Still, her gown was one of the least revealing, except for the matrons who still covered themselves from wrists to ankles. Not that there were many of those left.
"Let's move," Kell urged her.
"I can only go so fast in heels," she informed him, her voice shaking.
"Then take the damned things off." He pulled her to a stop, knelt, and pulled the shoes from her feet before stuffing them in his jacket pocket and rushing her to the open
French doors. "We go straight to the limo, no stopping in between."
"Fine." She was in no hurry to stay.
They entered the ballroom, cutting a direct path through the center of the dance floor to the open doors on the other side.
He kept her moving through the crowd, ignoring the few guests who tried to stop them and chat. With Kira ahead of them and Ian behind them, it was easy to keep the quick pace without appearing to be in a rush.
"Kell." A voice stopped them just inside the foyer. "Drage said you were here."
Emily stopped, causing Kell to curse behind her. She turned and stared into the gentle, pale blue eyes of the man watching them, his arm thrown around his wife's shoulders.
"Jansen, we were just leaving," Kell announced as Emily stared back at her father's boyhood friend.
His face was so kind. Crow's-feet wrinkled the corners of his eyes and his lips held a fatherly smile.
"I understand." He nodded. "I was just taking Elaine to the powder room to freshen up; she wasn't feeling well.' Jansen Clay
glanced at Elaine's bent head. "We just received some distressing news about Risa."
Emily felt her mouth go dry. Elaine was pale, her eyes damp with tears.
"Is Risa okay?" she asked, fearing the worse.
"She's alive." Jansen's expression tightened as Emily blinked back at him. His expression seemed to flash with something, fear perhaps.
"She's taken a setback?" Emily reached out to Elaine, her hand touching her shoulder. Elaine was Risa's stepmother. but she had practically raised her after Risa's mother’s death.
Elaine broke off a sob as she pushed from Jansen and wrapped her arms around Emily's shoulders, "It's been so hard," she sobbed. "Oh God. I have to find the powder room. Emily, please go with me."
Emily glanced back at Kell, seeing the tight grimace that pulled at his expression.
"Kira, could you help me?" Emily wrapped one arm around Elaine's waist as they headed for the ladies' room.
"I'll find Markwell and let him know we'll be leaving soon, sweetheart." Jansen kissed his wife's head as he glanced at Emily again.
For a moment, his eyes seemed cold, hard.
Emily shook the vision away. Jansen was anything but cold and hard. He had always been filled with laughter, always chiding her father for the bodyguards and his protectiveness.
"Hurry," Kell urged, following behind her. "I'll be waiting outside the ladies' room. Kira, go in with them."
Emily led Elaine through the foyer as the older woman sniffed and wiped at her eyes.
"Risa is such a sweet little girl," Elaine whispered. "It nearly destroyed Jansen to put her in that institution."
Daddy, help me! Risa's frightened pleas echoed through Emily's head as she and Kira helped the other woman into the ladies' room.
They were Risa's screams, not her own. Filled with horror and pain, and realization—
The ladies' room was empty. Silent.
Daddy, why . . .
Emily stumbled as the memory of Risa's frightened cries seemed to wrap around her.
Why, Daddy?
A sudden groan jerked her from the memory.
Emily's head snapped up just in time to hear the soft pop of a silenced pistol and to watch Kira slide to the floor.
"Kira," she cried out, rushing toward the fallen woman, watching in horror as blood bloomed across her chest.
"Stay the hell where you are, you little bitch," Elaine snapped, pressing the gun to Emily's head, her expression creased with malevolent anger as Emily stared back at her.
"It's really too bad." Elaine was no longer crying. She was staring back at Emily with cold hatred as she backed away slowly, keeping the gun leveled on her.
"You'll never get past Kell," she told the other woman. "He'll stop you."
"That gutter rat." she said, sneering. "He'll never know what happened. Neither will anyone else. These old houses are full of hidden passageways." One such passageway opened up to reveal Jansen.
Emily opened her mouth to scream when he rushed forward, only to have the sound cut off by the nasty-smelling handkerchief he pressed over her mouth and nose.
"There you go, pretty girl," he crooned. It was the voice from her nightmares. "Just go to sleep."
Darkness washed over her as screams and memories echoed in her head.
Jansen Clay. It had been Jansen all along and she had remembered too late.
Twenty-six
Kell paced the hallway, checking his watch, as Ian watched the door with eagle eyes. It wasn't like they could hear anything if there were any problems in the bathroom. The music and chatter from the party was so damned loud in the hallway that guns could have been blasting and it would have blended in.
"A ladies' room is a vortex into another fucking dimension," Ian growled. "They disappear in there and it takes them damned hours to come back out."
Kell stared back at him in surprise. Ian wasn't a big talker. His rough voice, nearly ruined from an assailant's garrote years before, always seemed to make him uncomfortable.
Kell checked his watch again.
Ten minutes. It was ten minutes too long.
"I should have never let her step in there," he told Ian fiercely. "She knows we need to get the hell out of here."
He stalked to the door as Jansen came in from the foyer and stared at him with a frown.
"They've been in there too long," Kell explained as he went to push the door open.
Jansen shook his head as a somber smile tugged at his lips.
"You don't know women," he said, chuckling. "I've seen Elaine disappear into the ladies' room for more than half an hour simply to repair her makeup. Give her a few minutes, Kell. The news about Risa has really shaken her up."
Kell stepped back, his jaw tensing as he glared at the door.
"She's different, isn't she?" Jansen said then, resting against the wall beside him.
Kell snapped his gaze back to the older man.
"Emily," Jansen explained. "She's different for you. I told Richard years ago he would have to watch her closely. I could tell you had a thing for her."
Kell stared back at him with a frown. "Meaning?"
"Well, son, no offense, but without your family's backing, you're not exactly in her social sphere," he said kindly. But something in his gaze reflected back, hard, dangerous.
"Kell!" Ian's voice snapped his head around. "Look at your feet."
Kell glanced down and felt cold murderous rage shake his soul. Blood was inching past the bottom of the door.
Pushing away from Clay, he gripped the doorknob, tugged at it, then threw his shoulder into the door. It cracked open to reveal Kira reaching out, her eyes dazed as blood spilled from her chest.
"Ambulance," he yelled out as Ian hurried to Kira's side, trying to stop the blood from oozing from the wound. Kell jerked the radio from his inner pocket and rushed to Elaine's fallen form.
"Elaine!" Jansen's fear-filled voice echoed through the room.
"Macey. Ambulance. Reno, converge. Emily's missing and Kira's down."
His gaze went around the small room desperately. There had to be a hidden entrance into it. So much for the fucking reports that there were no secret tunnels through this old house.
Jansen was barking orders to a servant as Ian worked to save Kira, and Markwell was shouting orders from the doorway to his security personnel.
"Markwell, where's the hidden door?" Kell turned, fury burning in his chest as the other man stepped to the doorway. "'Where's the hidden fucking door?"
"In the back closet," the other man snapped.
"Goddammit, why don't you bastards tell me about your fucking bolt-holes," he snarled, jerking the door open and rushing into the closet to check the wall.
There it was. The mahogany paneling was just a bit out of joint. As he pulled on it, the door slid into the wall, revealing a small tunnel.
"Where's the exit?" he snapped, pulling the radio free once again to report the coordinates to Reno and the men outside.
"The drain about half a mile down the road. The tunnel opens inside the culvert and leads to the wash," Markwell explained quickly. "But the gates leading to it were welded shut years ago."
Kell radioed the information to Reno. "I'm heading through the drain now, meet me at the exit. Whoever took her has a hell of a head start on us."
"Ian?" Kell glanced around the door as he quickly slid the ear clip over his ear and tucked the radio into his sleeve.
"She's alive. I'll keep her that way," Ian snapped. "Find Emily."
"You'll need light." Markwell pushed a flashlight into his hand. "Let's go."
Kell glanced at Markwell's hand. "I don't need you here."
"Fuck you!" The other man's lip lifted in a snarling sneer. "This is my home they decided to take her from and by God I'll help take them down. Now you're wasting time."
They slid into the tunnel, the flashlight picking out the tracks in the soft sandy floor dirt as well as Emily's thigh holster and pistol. There were two sets of footprints, both m
ale, one boots, the other soft soled.
"Two assailants." He lifted his wrist to snap into the radio. "Emily's not walking."
Kell could feel the fear in his gut now. She had to be unconscious, he assured himself. If they had killed her they would have left her body with Kira's and Elaine's; they wouldn't bother to kidnap her.
