She's a Spitfire (Tough Love Book 2)

by Chloe Liese

  “He drugged and attempted to rape you. And Elodie rescued you. Got you out of harm’s way.”

  Nairne stared away from me. “Yes.”

  “Jesus, Nairne. I’m so sorry.”

  This was what she’d meant when she said she’d had a bad experience with her sexuality that favored roughness backfiring on her. When she implied that she’d been compromised by a fucker who didn’t understand consent and the word no.

  He’d tried to rape her. I wanted to murder him. A hundred times over.

  She nodded. “Then for months, he’d show up wherever I went publicly. Clubs. Restaurants. The fucking shops. Walked straight into my dressing room once. Put me off shopping for life.” She splashed her face with water and exhaled raggedly. “Then it was notes. And gifts. So many fucking notes. Saying he didn’t give up easily. That he knew I wanted him.”

  “Why in the fuck wasn’t he arrested for stalking you?”

  She laughed to herself and kept staring off. “I filed complaints. He owned that club where it happened, apparently. He’s powerful. Influential. And nothing came of my legal action. As for the night he tried to rape me, I was drunk, and while he most definitely slipped something in my drink, there was no way to prove it. Elodie and I were both too drunk when it happened to get me to the hospital, and by the time we were both straight enough to go there for testing, it was out of my system.”

  “How’d you lose him?”

  She stared at the bathwater, splayed her hands so they tested its surface tension. “I got injured. Hospitals and rehab clinics are de facto excellent security I found out. Then I left.”

  “You came to Boston to get away from him.”

  She nodded. “And a host of other reasons. I had so much loss tied to Scotland, to Paris. I needed a radical change. I figured I’d start over and reclaim where I’d begun. And I needed a fucking ocean between me and that man.”

  “Who is he, Nairne?”

  She swallowed and blinked away tears, shook her head.

  “Tell me.”

  “I don’t trust you not to do something stupid,” she said.

  “I’m going to find out soon anyway, Nairne. Tom said they have partial prints. They’re running them through the system now…”

  “Won’t make a difference. He’ll walk away unscathed from it.” She said it flatly. Resigned and matter-of-fact.

  “I’m going to make him pay for what he did to you.”

  Her head snapped my way. “Don’t you dare.” She sat up and water sloshed over the tub’s edge. “This is my battle.” She jabbed her chest, glared at me. “No one else’s.”

  I took her face in my hands. “You’re so fucking wrong, innamorata. You’re mine to love and protect. Your enemies are my enemies. Your retribution is mine, too.”

  She shook her head in my grasp. “No. You’ll go off the rails on him, then you’ll get thrown in jail. It’ll only take you away from me.”

  I smiled wryly. “Give me some credit, fragolina. I did just spend the last near-decade living a double life while running a mafia syndicate, you know.”

  Her face soured. “Exactly. I don’t want my problem putting you squarely back in that place. You were miserable, Zed. And it’s against your morals. You’re not a murderer.”

  “I want to kill him, but I won’t. I’ll make him pay. I want him to suffer for what he’s done to you, to be unable to forget, the way you have. I’m not a murderer, Nairne, but I can be violent. And that man deserves violence.”

  She yanked herself away from me. “I’m telling you, it’s only going to end up hurting you and us, Zed. Forget about him.”

  “How can I? He dropped a goddamn statue that’s a memorial to his attempted rape and stalking of you, with a predatory note inside your apartment building, Nairne. Clearly, he knows where you are. How the fuck am I supposed to forget about him?”

  I stood up, paced the bathroom. “You say you’re not the controllable type, and I knew that going in. Well, you knew when you met me exactly what you were dealing with, from day one.”

  I leaned forward and grasped the edge of the tub until our faces were a hair’s breadth from each other. “I told you that I would always protect what’s mine. That I was a pushy motherfucker who didn’t take shit lying down and certainly didn’t allow harm to those he loved.”

  “Your being an obstinate arse,” she gritted.

  I pushed off the ledge and picked up my phone. I had vengeance to plan and Nairne didn’t need to hear about it. “Tough love, fragolina. It’s what I have to offer. Enjoy your bath.”

  Tom called close to midnight and dropped the bomb that the prints were inconclusive. Which meant Nairne was the only one who had what I needed to know. His name. His face. And she was refusing to tell me.

  Unless…

  Elodie. She’d been with Nairne, she’d know. And I’d asked her to come help Nairne get ready for the charity gala tomorrow. But would she tell me? If Nairne made Elodie promise silence, would she break that confidence if I begged her to?

  I had to think that one over. I’d have to corner Elodie, then somehow try to get her to talk. Nairne would be livid. Not that it would be a new emotion at the moment. She’d gone to bed straight from her bath, obviously pissed at me. Well, I was plenty pissed myself. At her and me. All the times I’d stupidly left her vulnerable, that he could have found and hurt her.

  Yes, Tom protected her well. He was literally the best money could buy, and like everyone else who met her, he loved Nairne. He was invested in her and I didn’t doubt he’d do anything to keep her safe. But he hadn’t known to be on the lookout for anything other than your run-of-the-mill, overly friendly tool bag, or a nutso fan of mine who’d try to get to me through Nairne. A stalker, one who’d roofied and tried to rape her, was a very different predator to anticipate and shield her from.

  “Jesus.” I scrubbed my face in the shower and smacked the handle down to shut it off.

  I added up all the times since knowing her that she’d jumped when caught unawares. How uneasy she was around cameras and public spaces. My jaw clenched as I revisited her words. All the places and ways he’d made her life hell. How long had he been watching her?

  I stepped out of my shower and snapped the towel off the rack with all the cumulative irritation I had bottled up. Toweled my hair roughly and wrapped the cotton viciously tight around my waist.

  He’d tortured Nairne like she was prey. And he’d fucked with the wrong woman. He saw women as property to be tranqed and used, and was clearly a base animal. But I was the goddamn apex predator. I’d eviscerate him.

  My hands braced on the ledge of the vanity and I stared back at my tiger eyes. I could be feral again. I could hunt once more, lie in waiting and strike when the moment was right. Anything to keep Nairne safe, to free her from this nightmare. I stared into my reflection as I talked to myself.

  “Back to the old ways, Zeddo.”

  My muscles tensed as I thought about what I wanted to do. Rip him limb from fucking limb. And what I’d actually have to settle for doing. A little aggravated assault. I could afford good lawyers who’d make sure I got off easy. I’d beat the living shit out of him, warn him off her, and stick the best PI on him to make sure he stayed thousands of miles away from her.

  I watched my reflection, as water droplets slid down my unblemished skin, the opposite to my brother’s tattoo-laden body. Teo kept nudging me to get a tat, saying I should get a tiger inked somewhere vast on my body. Sharp black, no color. Told me I was all pretty and smooth on the outside, but inside, pure incisors and instinct. I’d accepted the compliment but declined the tattoo.

  “A waste of blank canvas,” Teo had said. “You should understand this better, mister artist.”

  Nairne had laughed when I told her that.

  “Panthera tigris. Largest cat species.” We’d been tangled in my bed while her fingers traced cool over my hot skin, a figure eight around my eyes then down the bump on my nose.

  I’d smiled u
nderneath Nairne’s fingers.

  “Apex predator of course,” she’d whispered. Her voice was always smokier in the mornings and it did things to my body. I’d tugged her closer and made her notice her effect. “Territorial,” she hummed as I squeezed her soft ass and slid myself between her thighs. “Solitary but social.” When her hand had slipped down my chest and stomach then settled where I needed it, she’d told me tigers were infamously noisy maters, too.

  Staring at those cat eyes in the mirror, I brushed my teeth and spat the bad taste of this whole twisted situation down the drain. Then, grabbing my phone, I sent a text to Tom, asking him for a contact—the right expert who could help me find this guy and put an end to this, if I couldn’t coax Elodie or Nairne to open up.

  Fuck playing defense. Anticipating the attack. I was an offense player, a go-getter, always had been, and this creep had gone unpunished long enough. Telling Tom what I needed took less than sixty seconds, but it lifted one hundred pounds of worry off my chest.

  I had a plan in motion.

  Back in the bedroom, I slipped quietly under the covers and scooted myself against Nairne. Kissed her hair and wrapped my arm around her torso to pull her close. She often startled when I got into bed with her, until her senses recognized my body, my smell, and she knew it was me. Sure enough, her body went rigid for a split second before it relaxed completely on a soft sigh.

  “Zed.” She squeezed my arm.

  Nuzzling her hair, I kissed her gently and whispered that I was here, and she was safe. Because in my arms, she always would be.

  Twenty-Four

  Zed

  When I woke up, I knew it was late.

  “Shit.” I scrubbed my eyes and looked around.

  I hadn’t meant to sleep in. I’d meant to wake up Nairne by having her for breakfast. Figured I’d try to torture the guy’s name out of her one last time, before I resorted to grilling her best friend, and trying expensive, private measures.

  I sprang up, scrambling for my phone, and saw I already had what I wanted from Tom. A private detective. The best out there, he’d said. It was a start.

  I threw on some sweats and a t-shirt, then dragged her birthday present out from under my bed and strolled into the living room. Nairne peeked over her black-rimmed glasses and stared at me from the couch, looking unfairly sexy. Hair knotted in a high, messy bun with a pen stuck in it. I’d had so many fantasies of smacking her book out of her hands and fucking her in just those nerd glasses. She gave me a disapproving frown. Sexy nerd to hot disciplinarian.

  There was something wrong with me. The angrier she looked, the harder I got. To top it off, she was wearing a sheer, old shirt of mine that did nothing to hide the dark circles of her nipples.

  “Good morning, Zedekiah.”

  Damn, full name status. I was in trouble.

  She placed another pen inside her book, snapped it shut, and set it down next to her. “You came to bed late.”

  I dropped onto the other end of the sofa with the box in my lap. “Couldn’t sleep. That’s why I just woke up now.” Tension was thick between us and I swallowed all the reprimands I wanted to give her about being a stubborn, obstructionist pain in my ass. “I upset you last night. I’m sorry.”

  She blinked at me. “Did you just apologize for being an overbearing arse?”

  “Yes,” I grumbled. “Now, let’s move on.” I set the black box in front of her.

  Nairne stared at it warily. “What’s that?”

  “A belated present, birthday girl. Just one, because I know you don’t like them. And there’s a point to it.”

  She stared at it still. I knew she struggled with generosity, and I could be offensively generous in her mind. She’d grown up living modestly in a tiny village, darning socks and jarring her own vegetables. Materialism made Nairne itchy.

  I sighed. “Just open your present, impossible woman.”

  She took it in her lap. Lifting the lid, she peeked into the box before she glanced back up at me in realization.

  “Masks,” she said.

  The first one was an elaborate spray of peacock feathers in shades of blue and green. Cerulean and sapphire, emerald and chartreuse, littered with sparkling flecks of gold, and long silk ribbons to tie it.

  “It’ll suit you. The blues and greens against your hair and skin.” I ran my fingers through her auburn strands to where their ends met her breasts. Clearing my throat, I nodded toward the box. “There’s more.”

  She removed the second item. A hard, glazed mask painted in tiger stripes of black, gold, and burnt orange. Its lacquered surface shone harshly against the light, and she inspected it in her hands. “Good lord, you’re going to look illegal in this.”

  I laughed quietly, taking it from her grasp and inspecting it myself. “Well, I will be wearing something else, too.”

  “A tux?”

  I nodded. “I ordered it last week. Now I have to go make sure it fits.”

  She scrunched her nose, pushing her glasses back up the bridge. “Don’t you have a handful of them already?”

  “You crazy? I’ve got an occasion to have a new tux made, I’m having a new tux made.”

  “You and your suits.”

  I scooched closer, and she didn’t punch me in the nuts, so I figured I was clear to move in. “I’m particular about my suits. I’m obsessive about my tuxes.” I kissed the hollow at the base of her milky throat.

  Her breath hitched when I added some tongue. She tasted so fucking good.

  Nairne pushed my shoulder until I had to sit back. Her eyes searched me. “You’re up to something. And I can’t stop you. But at least have a croissant and some coffee, before you do whatever nonsense you’re going to. Just promise me, no endangering yourself, Zed.”

  “I’m not endangering myself. And you could save us all a lot of time by telling me his name. Instead of hunting for it, I could stay here and have you for breakfast.”

  She yanked a pen out of her hair and sucked it seductively into her mouth. The pen disappeared deeper between her lips again before it slid out with a loud pop.

  Sweet mother of—

  “I could, but I’d rather keep you in the dark as long as possible, on the chance I can stop you from doing something imbecilic.”

  “I’m going to find him, Nairne. You might as well just tell me.”

  This was getting finished. I’d fallen asleep enraged and woken even more incensed, with a primal need to tear this man’s skin off his bones. To erase every trace of him. Because he’d violated the woman I loved. He’d tried to hurt her, then he’d made her afraid to live freely, uninhibited and trusting, in the city that had been her home.

  “Nairne.”

  She glared at me.

  “You shouldn’t have to live like this.”

  “I know that,” she snapped.

  “So why won’t you let me help you?”

  “Because you don’t know what you’re dealing with. I’ll be all right. I can handle it. We’ve got security on me.”

  “So, you’re just going to let this go unanswered. Spend your life looking over your shoulder. While I keep you front and center in the media.” I sighed, staring at my favorite subject. Wide, bright green eyes, soft full lips, and that precious scattering of freckles over her nose. “You’ve been in the tabloids for months now, thanks to me.”

  She shrugged.

  “I’m fucking pissed you didn’t tell me before now.”

  “I know.”

  I’d known she was stubborn. Headstrong. My hot-headed spitfire. And I loved her for it. But right now I wanted to fuck the stubborn right out of her and get her good and boneless, so she’d tell me who we were dealing with.

  She was resistant though. Nairne didn’t trust that I would handle this information in a way that was morally tolerable or safe for me. So, she wasn’t going to give it up.

  I took her face in my grasp. Kissed her hard and left her breathless and looking equally angry and aroused. “I’ll be back at fi
ve. We need to be there by six. Your dresses to try on will be here in an hour. And somebody’s coming to help you get all fancied up.”

  She gaped at me. “You can’t just send minions here to dress me up like a doll, Zed.”

  “Well, Nairne, it’s my place. And if you had your way, you’d go to a formal charity event in leggings and a Gryffindor sweatshirt, which is unfortunately against dress code. So yes, I can, and I have.”

  “Who is it?” she pressed.

  I strolled into the kitchen. Poured myself a coffee. Buttered my croissant.

  “Zed?”

  “Someone you know. You’re safe with her.”

  “That’s all you’re telling me.”

  I glanced up as I sipped my coffee. “Being kept in the dark isn’t fun, is it?”

  She scowled and grumbled to herself as I munched my pastry and stared at her. I’d pictured her birthday weekend being relaxing and romantic. I was going to show her off in a gown at her global health gala tonight, then take her back to my place and make love to her as many times as I could.

  Make love. The direction my life had been headed in Boston, I’d never thought I’d get to that with a woman. Fundamentally, Nairne and I had a connection imbued with an inherent intensity. Sex between us was raw and visceral. But nowadays, it held a weight and breadth it hadn’t always. Edging had morphed from torture to luxuriating. Bites became long, hard tastes chased by kisses. I didn’t just battle and take her in bed anymore. I worshipped her.

  Because I did love her. And each day I spent with her, fear built in equal measure with my feelings for her. She was an astronomical risk because of how precious she’d become to me. And now through my notoriety, I’d brought attention to her and made her discoverable to a man who’d terrorized her.

  Meaning, this was my fault. And if she thought I really wasn’t going to do anything about this stalker, Nairne had another thing coming to her. Because I loved her. And love didn’t sit back and let hurt go unanswered. Love answered. Love demanded recompense.