Captured In Sin

by Devlin Chase

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  About the Author

  More Books by Devlin Chase

  Captured In Sin

  Devlin Chase

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2012 Devlin Chase

  Discover other titles by Devlin Chase at Smashwords.com

  Awakened In Sin

  Opposed In Sin

  Bound In Sin

  Tested In Sin

  Exposed In Sin

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Acknowledgements

  In writing any book, there are many people along the way who offer support, wisdom and insight. We would like to express our thanks to everyone who has made this book possible.

  Thanks especially to Chrysanthe and Corné, our crucial first readers; the book is all the better thanks to your input and eagle eyes. Many thanks also to Brent, our superstar designer – you gave us the cover we could only dream of. Also to Louis – for seeing the big picture and taking the photos to prove it. A huge thanks to Deme Symms, our cover model; who is as beautiful on the inside as he is on the outside.

  Finally, to our partners, O and C – for being patient while we babbled on about nothing but the Vengeful Elements – and for being wonderful enough to actually listen.

  Oh...and Suzie? You’re our number one fan and we love you for it!

  Dedication

  This one’s for the men in our lives...

  ...for simply being you.

  Prologue

  All of the virtues in the world couldn’t save her this time and, as Cat stared out over the burning skyline, she knew what it was like to face the last minutes of her life.

  Fire raged behind her, smoke spewing into the night to join with streams rising from the scores of burning buildings that dotted the city. From her vantage-point high in the apartment block she could see another building come alight. Faintly, over the crackling of the flames, she heard the shatter of glass as windows exploded outward, millions of tinkling shards falling to the street below.

  He’d done this; made the city pay for his thwarted desires. Finally, he’d understood that she could never be his; that his plans lay in ashes the way he was laying waste to the city.

  She closed her eyes, choking on smoke as the fire grew in intensity, the heat drawing closer. She knew that he’d want her to see and, if he’d been standing next to her, he’d have forced her to look upon the chaos he’d created. She kept her eyes closed; a futile gesture of defiance, perhaps the last she would ever make, although it gave her little comfort.

  A siren wailed in the distance and she opened her eyes, feeling the smoke’s sting and the tears, which flowed silently down her cheeks. She lifted a hand to wipe away her tears, pausing as she saw the blood which stained her palm. A splinter of glass shimmered in the light of the flames and a thin rivulet of blood pulsed weakly around the wound, evidence that the cut was still fresh.

  She pulled it out easily and the tiny shard fell to the floor, instantly lost amongst the myriad of broken glass that lay at her feet before the broken window.

  She closed her eyes again, knowing it would be her last peaceful moment, opening them slowly as a shiver raced up her spine despite the inferno that was overtaking the room and moving steadily toward her. Cold enveloped her, just as she remembered it, and the crackling pop of the fire dwindled to dull static as he approached.

  She kept her gaze locked on a distant point, refusing to turn and face him, fearful of what he’d see reflected in her eyes.

  “It’s beautiful, is it not?”

  His voice was silk, his breath hot against her neck, penetrating the icy cold he’d brought into the room. Her mouth tightened as she fought its hypnotic effect.

  “You needn’t have done this,” she said quietly as she gestured with her bloodied hand at the tableau of destruction before her. Seemingly in response a tree in the distance took flame, sparks rising instantly into the night.

  “That’s not funny,” she muttered, hearing him chuckle behind her. Still, she didn’t face him.

  “Oh,” he sighed softly against her hair as another shiver enveloped her, “one should never deny oneself a simple pleasure. There are so few left in this life.”

  She could feel his heat warming her through her thin T-shirt and it brought comfort, dulling her fear and making her eyelids droop. Resisting, she bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood, its coppery taste flooding her mouth.

  It was enough to break the pervading calm which was weakening her resolve; she turned to face him.

  God, he’s beautiful, she thought as she stared into his eyes, seeing again how the darkness loved him, wrapping shadows around his high cheekbones and creating dark smudges around his eyes.

  His eyes; bottomless pupils ringed with blood-irises that glowed with an inner fire. Enflamed, she saw now, with an anger that he was barely keeping in check.

  It brought a smile to her lips even as she stepped back, making contact with the bottom edge of the window. She felt a brief stabbing pain in her lower back as a shard of glass from the broken window sliced shallowly into her skin. Instinctively she reached out to brace herself and felt more pain as another shard sliced into her uninjured palm. She gasped, staring down at the blood dripping from her fingers to pool at her feet.

  She smiled, seeing him stand motionless, his eyes fixed on hers with unchecked intensity.

  The fire, drawing inexorably closer, was unable to penetrate the shadows around him as he took a step closer. His skin, pale ivory, seemed impervious to the dancing flames and his bruised eyes glowed brighter as he approached. Only a couple of feet separated them now. His cruel, dark lips pulled back to reveal perfect teeth and fangs as he smiled gently, his hand reaching out to her.

  “This can all end now,” he said, voice calm and assured. “All that you’ve seen tonight can be restored instantly.”

  Cat stared at his elegant fingers as he clicked them, hardly batting an eyelid as the flames disappeared, the air becoming fragrant as the choking smoke vanished.

  She turned her head, glancing out of the shattered window; seeing the skyline restored, no sign of the earlier devastation.

  She faced him once more, unmoved by his display of compassion, and seeing the fleeting glint of victory flare in his eyes.

  “I don’t think so,” she said slowly as she tilted her head and stared up at him, noticing the way his trousers hugged his legs and the long leather coat draped his tall, muscular frame.

  Strong, impossibly long legs, perfectly matched to his perfect body, if memory served. She choked back a laugh as she remembered just how perfect she’d once thought his body to be and just how perfect it had felt against her own.

  A wry smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he returned her stare, his hands reaching for her.

  “It could be perfect, Catherine.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, hanging like silk in the air between them.

  “I could make it so.”

  His ego made her gasp and she choked back the
mad laughter that bubbled in her throat, lifting a shaky hand to push aside matted strands of hair from her eyes and feeling the warmth of her own blood smeared across her forehead.

  Squaring her shoulders she smiled at him, seeing the anger that boiled just beneath the surface of his calm smile. She shook her head. “No, you can’t. You can’t make it perfect because you don’t want it to be perfect.”

  His hand dropped instantly, all pretence gone. As it did, the room erupted into flames once more, the smoke instantly choking her as heat seared her eyes.

  His eyes reflected the flames as he halved the distance between them. She reached back to the window, feeling glass cut deep into her flesh as she gripped the frame. This time she welcomed the pain; drew strength from it.

  His reached out to her, trying to pull her back from the edge, and she leaned further, evading his grasp.

  “You cannot do this!” He bellowed as his fingers curled around the thin fabric of her shirt, ripping the cloth as if it were tissue paper.

  “I will not allow it!”

  Now her laughter erupted, bubbling like water as her legs tensed against the low wall, drawing pressure into her feet.

  “Oh, but I can,” she smiled broadly. “It’s called free will, and it’s the one thing you can never take from me, you son of a bitch!”

  Her last words came out as a snarl as Cat drew all the coiled tension from her legs and threw herself out of window, hearing with grim satisfaction the howl of rage that followed her as she fell.

  Chapter 1

  One Week Earlier

  The woman was droning on about her last trip to the Caribbean as Cat stared absently out of the window. It looked warm and sunny outside but the air in the office was chilled to a frigid eighteen degrees Celsius. The woman’s babbling about glorious beaches and how tanned waiters served frosty cocktails in the blazing heat was doing nothing to improve her mood. But bills had to be paid, no matter how much she wished she could instantly transport herself to that idyllic beach and have an Adonis serve her drinks in chilled glasses.

  She pulled down the sleeves of her thin cardigan and refocused her attention on the brash woman seated across from her.

  “So I want a place that’s as warm as the Caribbean. There has to be the same beaches and the same type of accommodation…”

  Cat sighed, tapping on her keyboard. The printer hummed as she smiled at her client.

  “Mrs Bradshaw, I think I have the perfect destination.”

  She reached behind her and took the papers as they drifted out of the printer, stapling them together before handing them across the desk.

  Eager hands grabbed the printed brochure and Cat could see the fleeting glimmer of a rhinestone embedded in one of the older woman’s nails. It forced her to take a quick look at her own nails, bitten down and ragged around the edges.

  “What’s this?”

  Her client’s voice had become edgy, confusion mingled with indignation and Cat forced a smile across her lips.

  It’s the Caribbean, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

  Thin gold bangles tinkled as an elegant hand swept aside platinum-highlighted hair.

  “I can see that, Catherine. But I fail to understand why you would show me this.”

  This time Cat’s smile was more genuine.

  “The way I see it is this. You want the weather, the beach and the accommodation to be exactly like it was in the Caribbean. Now, there are a lot of destinations with great beaches and fabulous hotels but, what I’m guessing you really want is, in fact, the exact same holiday you had last year. So…I’m suggesting the Caribbean.”

  Satisfied, Cat leaned back in her chair and waited for the realization to sink into her client’s head.

  It seemed to be taking a long time, longer than she’d expected. She looked up to find Mrs Bradshaw frowning at her, bringing a similar frown to her own forehead.

  “Sweetie,” the older woman said frostily as she dropped the printout onto the desk, “if I wanted the Caribbean I wouldn’t be here talking to you about going somewhere else this year.”

  Cat leaned forward, nonplused at the sudden change in the woman’s demeanor; she’d been through it before. “I think you know I’m right. You loved the package deal. So did your husband. Why risk a disastrous holiday this year after having such a great time last year?

  Let me give you a few minutes to think about it while I put the kettle on. Do you still like green tea with mint?”

  She let a small smile of satisfaction lift the corners of her full mouth as she left the sales floor and hustled into the small kitchenette. She didn’t think she’d even need the time it took to brew the tea before Charlene Bradshaw made her decision.

  Heading back to her desk with two cups in her hands she kept her expression neutral, even as she saw the woman turning the brochure in her hands. One manicured finger traced over the photograph of a pristine beach while a rueful smile stretched Botox-plumped lips. Cat didn’t even have time to sit behind the desk before Charlene leaned across it.

  “You are absolutely right, as always. I think it’s a fabulous idea. I can’t believe I was actually considering going anywhere else.”

  The effusiveness brought another smile. She was all business now. “I’m just glad that we could find the perfect holiday for you again. I’ll get the package details emailed through to you as before.”

  Pulling a booking form from a drawer she quickly filled in the proposal details and included the Bradshaw’s address and contact details.

  “When do you plan on vacationing this year?”

  She waited patiently as a diary was pulled from the folds of a garish handbag made from the skin of some unfortunate amphibious creature and emblazoned with an equally grotesque and oversized logo.

  “Dirkie has a conference in New York in November, so I would say….the two weeks beginning the fourteenth of October.”

  Perfectly whitened and capped teeth flashed for an instant and Cat averted her gaze, knowing what was coming next. They went through this little ritual at least once a year.

  “I think I’ll do some shopping while he’s there so, if you can make the departure tie in with a flight to New York, he’d be really happy.”

  Cat smiled and nodded, writing the dates on the form and making a note to connect them to New York at the end of their vacation. Then she slid the proposal across the desk and watched the older woman sign her name with a flourish.

  “This proposal is non-binding until acceptance, as usual. I’ll email it through to you by the close of business today and look forward to hearing from you.”

  Charlene was grinning now and Cat had to admit it took years off her age. She should consider smiling more often.

  Thanking Cat for the tea she hadn’t even taking a sip of, the older woman was out of the door and climbing into the driver’s seat of her outsized Mercedes before Cat could close the file folder. She watched as the car pulled out of the parking lot and sped off down the road.

  Frigid air closed in around her as she pulled a small diary from her purse and paged to October. She made a discreet note of the Bradshaw’s travel dates before returning the diary to her bag. Then she took a cigarette from the pack in her purse and headed out into the sunshine.

  ***

  The message light was blinking on her answering machine when Cat got home. She kicked the door closed behind her and moved across the room, to the counter that separated the kitchen area from the small lounge. She already knew who the message was from, pressing the play button as she shrugged out of her coat, draping it over the back of the sofa. After an electronic beep there was a pause before a gruff voice filled the apartment.

  “Uh, yeah. Uh. Hi. It’s me. Just wanted to know if we’re still on for dinner tonight. Let me know.”

  There was another pause before an electronic beep indicated that the message was over.

  “No need to play that one back to check for any details.” Cat’s smile was wry as she tossed her handbag onto the couch
and slid her feet out of the stilettos she masochistically forced herself to wear each day. She dropped four inches in height, which did little to diminish her tall frame. She knew towering over people could be intimidating but, at five feet ten in her stockings, she got a kick out of looking some of her clients in the eye, especially the butch Afrikaner males who thought they could bully the sweet little travel agent into knocking a few hundred bucks off the airfare.

  She headed barefoot into the adjoining bedroom and threw herself face down onto the bed. Oh, if only she could stay here till the morning. With a sigh she rolled over and stared at the ceiling.

  She’d forgotten the dinner plans she’d made with Frankie and, while she’d love nothing more than a long soak in the tub, she knew that these monthly dinners had become something of a ritual for him: for both of them in fact. Besides, she knew that there was nobody else to have dinner with him except her. And she knew this because there was nobody for her to have dinner with either.

  Rolling off the bed she pulled off her cardigan and the white shirt beneath it, not even bothering with the buttons but pulling both garments over her head, dropping them in a heap at the foot of the bed. Her pencil skirt followed before she headed into the small en-suite bathroom. No time for a bath now, she thought as she turned the dial on the shower, waiting until steam filled the cubicle before stepping inside.

  Twenty minutes later she was dressed more comfortably in black lycra leggings and a black thin knit top that hung down to her knees. A pair of mid calf Doc Martens finished the ensemble as she sat on the bed, lacing up the boots. It was her usual evening gear, especially for nights like tonight.

  Minutes later she’d zipped up her leather jacket and palmed her purse and car keys. Then the only sound left to echo through the apartment was the sound of the door as she slammed it closed with her foot.