by Opal Carew
Riding Steele #1
Kidnapped
Opal Carew
St. Martin’s Griffin
New York
The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you for your personal use only. You may not make this e-book publicly available in any way. Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at: http://us.macmillanusa.com/piracy.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Riding Steele #1: Kidnapped
Also by Opal Carew
About the Author
Copyright
More from RIDING STEELE
“Is that the woman Killer’s friend wants us to kidnap?”
Steele glanced in the direction Shock was looking. Steele and his men were sitting in a pub called Big Rigg that had heavy wooden tables and a rustic atmosphere. A woman walked toward one of the high tables at the bar where a suited man and a couple were sitting. He recognized the newcomer from the pictures of Craig’s sister that Killer had shown him.
They didn’t do her justice.
Steele nodded. “That’s the one.”
She was stunning. Long, glossy, dark brown hair that was drawn back in an elegant French braid, beautiful big eyes, a pert nose and lips that begged to be kissed. And her body. Damn! Every heart-stopping curve was showcased in her short, snug, black dress. His eyes followed the long, slim line of her torso to the arc of her hips, then down the longest legs he’d ever seen. Slim and shapely, ending in glossy black stilettos studded with rhinestones. How she could walk in those heels—which had to be at least six inches high—he didn’t know, but every man in the bar must be thanking his lucky stars at the sight of her glorious swaying ass. He allowed his gaze to make a leisurely climb upward before stopping at her breasts. Round, firm, and snugly cocooned in the tight black dress.
The hint of cleavage in the deep-V neckline caused his body to tighten. His fingers itched to wrap around those glorious breasts. To feel the softness in his hands. To stroke the nipples with his thumbs.
Fuck, his cock was swelling painfully in his jeans.
But this was someone’s sister. Craig, Killer’s friend. And Craig wanted to protect her.
Steele knew what that felt like. Thoughts of Chrissy shattered his mood. Dead at eighteen. Pain slashed through him. No matter how much Steele had tried to protect his younger sister, had tried to steer her from hanging out with the wrong crowd, headstrong Chrissy had ignored his sage advice and done whatever the hell she’d damned well pleased. And died of a drug overdose.
Now he’d been offered a chance to help another brother save his sister from a bad situation. He had been fucking tempted to do exactly what Craig had drunkenly suggested when they’d partied together with Killer the night before, but Steele drew the line at kidnapping.
Raven leaned close to Rip. “What are they talking about? Are we going to kidnap someone?” She grinned. “Is that part of Steele’s birthday celebration?”
“No,” Rip answered. “When we were drinking with Killer yesterday, he introduced us to a friend who kinda asked us to kidnap his sister. She’s been dating this guy and he’s concerned about her. He left to go out of town today, but he has a bad feeling. He wanted us to keep her safe until he gets back.”
“I think he just wanted to get her out of the picture for a while,” Shock said, “to make the guy think she’s dumped him, hoping he’d move on to another woman.”
“That’s crazy.” Raven sipped her beer. “The sister would never forgive him and the minute she gets back, she’ll go find the boyfriend and explain.”
“He’s desperate,” Steele said. “For some reason, he thinks this guy is really bad news. He’s trying to protect his sister, and I get that. But we’re not kidnapping her.”
Raven eyed the well-groomed man in the expensive suit standing beside Laurie at the bar.
“He looks like the kind of guy most brothers would want their sisters involved with. He dresses well and probably makes a good living.”
She grinned at Steele. “I’m actually surprised Killer’s friend would want her in your hands rather than his. Wouldn’t he worry that she’d be in danger of being manhandled by you and the rest of your crew?” She started fanning herself with a big grin on her face. “Whew! Is it getting hot in here?”
“I don’t understand either,” said Steele. “I got the impression he’s close with Killer, and since Killer vouched for us and the guy has no other options, he was willing to take a chance. Then again, the guy could be stupid and crazy, which is why I don’t want to get too wrapped up in this mess.”
“Well, I think we should do it. I’m all for having another chick around.” Shock stared at the woman’s ass. “Especially one as gorgeous as that.”
“Are you tired of me already, Shock?” Raven asked.
He grinned. “Never, babe. But access is limited with this possessive man of yours.” He nodded toward Rip.
Steele laughed. Rip was pretty generous with his woman.
“Even if we did kidnap her, which is not going to happen, it wouldn’t be like that,” Steele said. “She’d be under our protection. My protection. Right?”
They all muttered in affirmation, but it was all for show. None of these men would force themselves on a woman. And it was moot anyway.
He had decided to come here tonight to check out the situation, though. He could at least do that much. And keep an eye on her, from a distance, until her brother Craig got back in town.
“So, Steele, now that we’ve satisfied Killer’s friend’s request and checked that the sister’s okay,” Shock said, “how about we get on with celebrating your birthday?”
“We’ve got time for one more beer before we go meet Dom and Magic.” Steele hailed the waitress.
* * *
Laurie sat on the stool beside Donovan, tugging on the hem of the short black dress. He had sent it to her this afternoon, along with the death-defying heels, insisting she wear the outfit tonight for their six-month anniversary.
She felt overdressed for this pub, but Donovan liked it here. It had its own microbrewery and Donovan was partial to a black lager they specialized in, as well as a stout with undertones of bitter sweet chocolate. She also suspected he liked being in a place where he and his wealth stood out from the average person.
Donovan’s friends Joan and Henry sat across the small rectangular bar table from them.
She hated being on display like this, and she hated feeling outside her depth with a man, but Donovan’s controlling nature kept her off-balance and unsure of herself, even though in all other areas of her life, she’d always been strong and independent.
That’s why she’d decided that tonight she would end it. Well, she had decided that, but when he’d announced they were celebrating an anniversary, she’d decided she should wait a few days.
He picked up his glass containing a beer as dark as cola, and finished the last of it, then pushed it aside. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her tight to his body. She tried not to cringe, but he noticed the slight tensing of her body, so he pulled her tighter.
“I know it was a surprise that Joan and Henry are joining us for a drink, love, but I promise it won’t be all evening. They just wanted to toast our anniversary and wish us well. Surely you don’t mind?
“No, of course not.” She smiled at Joan. Laurie hardly knew either of them, but Henry was an old friend of Donovan’s.
In fact, she was glad they had joined them. She didn’t really want to be alone with Donovan. Their relationship had been getting more and more out of control, as he became more demanding a
nd … well, almost abusive.
She knew she had to break it off, but he was … intimidating.
A waitress arrived at the table and set flute glasses in front of each of them and a barman arrived with a bottle of champagne—Dom Pérignon, no less. He popped the cork, then filled each of their glasses.
Donovan lifted his glass. “To a wonderful anniversary, and many more.”
Laurie lifted her glass and clinked it against the others, feeling like a total liar. She wanted out of this relationship as fast as she could get out.
But she sipped her wine.
“Now for your gift.” Donovan reached into his pocket and removed a long, velvet box adorned with a small shiny gold bow. Instead of handing it to her, he snapped it open and showed it to her. Diamonds glittered against the dark blue velvet lining of the box.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Joan exclaimed. “Is it a bracelet?”
“It’s a necklace.” Donovan lifted the sparkling gift from its nest of velvet. It was four rows of stunning diamonds wide. “Let me put it on you.”
She knew there was no point in arguing. He would win and she would come off looking unappreciative and spoiled.
She lifted her hair and he wrapped the necklace around her neck, then fastened it.
It was more a collar than a necklace, hugging her neck closely. She felt like she would choke from it. It reminded her of that last time they’d made love, if you could call it that, when his fingers had wrapped around her throat in a choking hold as he’d thrust into her from behind. Her wrists had been chained, so she couldn’t push away his hands, and when she’d tried to protest, he’d tightened his hold until she couldn’t utter words. The only sound she could make were just whimpers of frustration.
She had almost fainted as he’d taken his own pleasure and left her gasping for breath.
Before that, his dominant sexual demands had pushed her limits in ways she didn’t like, but that time had shown her he could be dangerous. And it had become crystal clear that he cared not a whit about her pleasure.
She gazed at him. “Thank you.”
She could tell he knew she was thinking about the other night, and he smiled. He loved wielding control over her. Instead of drawing his hands away from her neck, the fingers of one hand curled around her neck, then his fingertips stroked the front of her throat. She half expected him to wrap his other hand around her throat and squeeze until she lost consciousness. But that was foolish. He would never do anything like that … in public.
Still, she had trouble breathing normally. He dragged his fingertips along the edge of the necklace, then drew her hair back from her shoulder.
“What do you think, Joan?” he asked, his hand resting on Laurie’s shoulder.
Joan stared at Laurie’s neck with obvious admiration, and a touch of jealousy. “It’s absolutely stunning. You’re a lucky girl, Laurie.”
Donovan smiled. “And I’m sure she’ll show me her gratitude later tonight.”
He said it in a light tone, the kind any guy might use while making a joking innuendo, and everyone laughed, but Laurie knew better. He expected her to thank him properly, and thoroughly. And if she didn’t meet his expectations, he would punish her.
And even if she did …
He leaned in and nuzzled her neck. “I can hardly wait.” The hand on her shoulder slid to the base of her neck and he squeezed, ensuring he reminded her of what he liked.
* * *
Wild Card grabbed another handful of the nachos, covered in meat, cheese and salsa, and dropped them onto his plate.
“Why bother with the plate? You’re going to be finishing those on your own.” Shock tossed back the rest of the beer in his glass and stood up.
“You guys really going?” Wild Card asked.
“We told you we were leaving after this beer, but you pulled a typical Card Trick and ordered them.”
“I’m not finished with my beer.”
Steele chuckled as he stood up, too. “That makes one of us. Just join us later, man.”
The others all stood up except Rip, who was staring across the bar.
“You coming?” Raven ran her hand over his shoulder affectionately and squeezed.
Rip dragged his gaze from the woman in the black dress across the bar to look at Raven. “Yeah, of course, baby.”
But then he turned and leaned close to Wild Card. “Look, keep an eye on her, okay?”
“Why? What’s up?” Wild Card asked.
“Something’s not right. The guy just gave her an expensive-looking necklace, but she doesn’t seem too happy about it. And check out the dress. She’s not comfortable in that or the shoes.”
Wild Card glanced at the woman who was staring at her tall stemmed glass. He had seen when the guy had flashed a box with a glittering necklace inside and then fastened it around the woman’s neck, but he hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. She hadn’t bubbled all over the guy, but some women were more subdued in their reactions. He hadn’t thought anything of it. But Rip, he was an ex-cop and he could read people. If he said there was something wrong, Wild Card wouldn’t question it.
And he didn’t question why Rip would suggest he keep an eye on her. Steele had taken an interest in her, for whatever reason, so that put her under Steele’s protection. That meant she was also under the protection of every man who rode with Steele.
Wild Card nodded and Rip stood up, then followed Raven toward the door.
Wild Card watched the woman as he ate his nachos. She was hot as all get-out, and that body-hugging dress was spectacular, but he now noticed little things that made him understand why Rip had said she was uncomfortable in it. She kept discreetly tugging on the hem, and under the table she would slip her foot from the high-heeled shoe and rub it against her slender ankle, then slide it back again. Clearly, she was itching to be out of them.
Damn, but they were so sexy. He wanted to think she loved wearing them, and that she loved the attention of every man’s gaze on the sway of her shapely ass as she walked in them.
He wished Steele hadn’t vetoed kidnapping the woman. Kidnapping her didn’t mean bedding her, but who knows? Maybe she’d be turned on by being surrounded by a gang of bikers and she’d decide she wanted to put out.
Raven sure hadn’t been the type he’d have figured to get involved with the whole gang of them, but she’d surprised them all. And she was one hot fuck. Who knew with this woman?
* * *
“No, thanks,” Laurie said as Donovan tipped the champagne bottle to her glass to refill it, but he ignored her.
He filled it to the top, then added to Joan’s and Henry’s glasses, but only filling them a quarter before pouring the last bit into his own.
He lifted his glass. “To my beautiful woman.” The others raised their glasses and clinked and she reluctantly joined them. She didn’t want any more champagne. It went straight to her head and she wanted to keep her wits about her. But as she sipped, Donovan subtly nudged her arm to deepen the sip.
He glanced at his watch. “Aren’t you two going to be late for your play?”
“We’ve got plenty of time,” Henry answered.
“But, honey,” Joan said with a smile, “I’m sure these two lovebirds would like to be alone.” She tipped back her glass and swallowed the rest of her wine.
“All right. I get it.” Henry finished his and stood up, then pulled back Joan’s stool. “You two have a great evening.” He winked then followed Joan to the door.
“Drink up,” Donovan said.
She stared at her glass, still three quarters full. “I really don’t want anymore.”
“I said drink it.” His tone brooked no argument and, hating herself for it, she obeyed and lifted her glass.
She took a sip, then as his dark gaze bored through her, she tipped back the rest of the glass. Damn, why didn’t she just say no and walk away? But there was something about him and his intimidating way. He hadn’t started out this way. He used to be ki
nd, generous, and thoughtful. But the more she got to know him, the more his dark side came out. And much as she hated it, when he used his controlling, authoritative tone, she fell into line. She barely even knew herself when she became like this. Letting a man control her.
She had to stop this. Anniversary or not, she had to put an end to this unhealthy relationship.
She drew in a deep breath, steeling her courage. “Donovan, I was going to wait until after our anniversary to do this but …”
She hesitated at the stormy look in his eyes, but then pushed herself to continue.
“This relationship isn’t working for me. I’m just not the kind of woman you’re looking for —”
“Shut up.” The hard words came out in a low tone that no one nearby would hear, but they rocked through her.
He pulled out his phone and texted something, then grabbed a roll of bills from his pocket and dropped two hundreds on the table. He grasped her upper arm and squeezed painfully, then stood up and guided her through the restaurant to the door.
She was having trouble keeping up with him in these ridiculously high heels and stumbled. Donovan jerked her back to her feet.
A nearby waiter paused. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
“She’s fine,” Donovan answered for her. “She’d just had a little too much to drink.”
Her cheeks flushed, not wanting people to think she was drunk, but her red cheeks only added credence to his words.
The waiter nodded. “Well, good evening, sir. Ma’am.” Then he continued on his way.
When they stepped out the door, Donovan tugged her along with him down the sidewalk and through a glass door to the parking garage next to the bar. He jabbed the button for the elevator. Another couple was approaching so she didn’t bring up their conversation again.
“We’re not taking the limo?” she asked. Donovan had been drinking and the idea of getting into a car with him made her nervous.
“No, I brought the ’vette.”
She wanted to protest, but she knew it would do no good. In fact, the more she protested, the more likely he was to drive recklessly, just to scare her.
