by Lili Valente
As if summoned by her fearful thoughts, she caught sight of Adam on the far side of the lawn, emerging from one of the small huts she guessed were the servant’s quarters. He had a phone pressed to his ear and was carrying a hefty kennel, the kind used for Labrador Retrievers or other large dogs.
But there were no large dogs on this island, no dogs at all as far as she knew. And certainly no reason for Adam to be carrying that kennel around to the back of the house—to where she had slept since she arrived on the island—except one.
The cage was for her.
For some reason—whether it was to be part of her and Jackson’s “play” or something more serious—that cage was being taken to her room. Jackson didn’t know that she suffered from claustrophobia and might not care if he did. It would all depend on whether she was speaking to kind Jackson or heartless Jackson and there were no guarantees which she would get.
They had no safe word, no contract drawn up to encourage him to respect her limits, and the man had contradicted himself more than once when it came to what she could expect if she resisted his control.
Once, he’d threatened to send her home on the next plane without another penny. But before that, he’d threatened to make her suffer if she tried to run. And why would he make a threat like that if he was truly willing to set her free?
It was suddenly starkly clear that she should be worrying far less about whether Jackson would believe her story and far more about whether she believed his.
The difference in focus could mean much more than the loss of a lover; it could mean the difference between life and death.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jackson
Hiro’s call came at the perfect time. Jackson needed a moment to clear his thoughts and refocus his intentions. He’d known Harley would be beautiful in that dress, but he hadn’t been prepared for the sucker punch of desire that had nearly leveled him when he’d turned to see her standing next to him, looking up into his eyes like all she wanted in the world was to rewind the clock and go back to when they first met.
To go back and make things better, to give them a shot at having more than some intense hate fucking on the way to hell and back.
She’d taken his breath away. He’d wanted to take her right there on the lanai, shove her dress up and rip her panties down and fuck her from behind with the wind blowing that dress around their joined bodies as he made her come, screaming his name loud enough for the servants to hear. He wanted to fuck her until there were no more lies left between them, just the truth of how hot they were together, electric like nothing he’d ever known.
But instead, he’d forced himself to sit down and get something in his stomach before things got ugly.
And things were going to get ugly, he had no doubt about that. Nothing Hiro might have managed to learn in the past week would change that.
Jackson and Harley were on a collision course. The crash was inevitable. The only question that remained was whether there would be anything worth salvaging among the wreckage when it was over.
“All right, talk,” Jackson said, closing the door to his bedroom behind him. His room wasn’t as large as Harley’s, but it was big enough to provide plenty of room to pace while Hiro filled him in on the fruits of his first week of spying.
“Sibyl is very reluctant to talk about Hannah or the rest of the family, and shuts down whenever I push the subject,” Hiro said. “I can’t be certain, but I believe they’ve suffered a great loss and may even be in hiding from people who wish them ill.”
Jackson’s brows drew together, but he supposed it wasn’t such a strange thing to hear. He might not be the only former victim of Harley’s out looking for revenge.
“What else?” he demanded.
“Sibyl has nightmares,” the pearl farmer said, affection and pity clear in his voice. “Her medications make it difficult for her to come fully awake during the night and leave the nightmares behind. She’s called out several names during her sleep, but so far nothing that would aid in the discovery of another last name. If there is one.”
“There is one, I’m certain of it,” Jackson said, pacing back toward the bedroom door. “Is there anything else or should I look for someone who will make sure I get what I pay for.”
“Don’t send anyone else,” Hiro said, pitch rising. “I’m making progress, I just need more time. I found a letter Hannah wrote as a child and an old photograph yesterday. I took pictures of them with my phone so I could send them to you. There may be more keepsakes that will offer clues, but Sibyl woke up from her nap before I could find them.”
Jackson fought the urge to curse. It wasn’t Hiro’s fault. He’d had private detectives on retainer who had found out less than the farmer had. Sibyl was every bit as secretive and mysterious as her niece. “Fine, send me the images and look harder this week. I’ll have Adam make a deposit to your account.”
“I don’t need the deposit,” Hiro said, cutting in before Jackson could hang up on him. “I’ll help so that you won’t have to hire some stranger to bother Sibyl, but I don’t want any more of your money. I don’t want to have that hanging over my head. She means something to me.”
“Congratulations,” Jackson said, but his sneer wasn’t as pronounced as it would have been a week ago.
All the more reason to finish this call and get back to Harley. He had to know if she was making a fool of him all over again or if there was something real growing between them, no matter how twisted its origins or tangled its roots.
Jackson ended the call with Hiro and waited for the text to come through—wanting to review all the information before he returned to Harley—but he didn’t expect a child’s letter or the picture to offer any real insight. It wasn’t until the image flashed onto his screen that he realized what was wrong about Hiro discovering a letter “Hannah” had written when she was a child.
There was no Hannah, not until six years ago when Harley Garrett became Hannah North.
Or at least that’s what he’d thought…
He gazed down at the faded picture of the two little girls in front of a sparkling lake, his stomach turning as the truth of what he was seeing penetrated.
The brown-haired, ponytailed girls were maybe ten or eleven years old. The slightly smaller, skinnier one stood with her foot propped up on a beached canoe and her hands fisted on her hips, silently daring the world to prove she wasn’t the master of all she surveyed. The more solid of the two, stood slightly back from her sister, watching her other half with a big grin on her face. She was so caught up in enjoying whatever joke had just been told that she didn’t seem to notice the camera, which only made the image more poignant.
Both of the girls were lovely—mirror images so alike he doubted their own mother could tell them apart without looking very closely—but the second girl’s smile made her loveliness something more. Something sweet and touching and terribly familiar.
He’d seen the same smile beaming up at him for half the hike this afternoon.
A moment later, a shot of the back of the photo came through with “Harley and Hannah Grade 5” scrawled in looping script, but by that point he’d already sorted out the truth.
Harley had a twin sister. A twin.
And Jackson had most likely spent the past week alternatively tormenting and fucking the wrong woman.
A thousand questions dumped into his head all at once—Why had she lied? Why had she allowed things to go so far? Was she protecting Harley? Was Harley even still alive?
Or had the past five years been a wild goose chase that ended now, with him realizing he’d committed the same sin he’d hated Harley for?
Had he been punishing an innocent woman for a crime she didn’t commit?
No one is innocent.
But looking at that little girl’s smile the words didn’t feel as true as they did even a week ago.
He didn’t take the time to read the letter scrawled in a child’s handwriting that appeared on the screen after the front and back of the
photo. He turned and stalked across the room, hurried through the open living area where the softly whirring fans above his head seemed to mock him for being a fucking fool, and took the five steps up into the dining room at a run.
But when he stepped out onto the lanai, Harley—Hannah’s?—chair was empty and her napkin blowing across the wooden planks in the ocean breeze.
She was gone.
But she wouldn’t get far.
Pulse leaping in his throat, Jackson jabbed Adam’s contact profile on his phone, issuing orders the moment the other man picked up. “Our guest decided to make a break for her freedom while I was inside taking a phone call. She doesn’t have more than a ten-minute head start. Fetch the gardener and start looking down toward the beach. I’ll check the road back toward town.”
“Yes, sir,” Adam said, hanging up without bothering to say goodbye.
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Jackson turned and started walking up the road toward town, carefully scanning the ground for signs of which way his prey had run.
He was going to find her, and then, one way or another, he was going to force the truth out of her pretty mouth and find out everything she’d been hiding.
To be continued…
Jackson and Hannah’s story continues in DESPERATE DOMINATION
releasing in July 2015.
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Acknowledgements
First and foremost, thank you to my readers. Every email and post on my Facebook page has meant so much. I can’t express how deeply grateful I am for the chance to entertain you.
More big thanks to my Street Team, who I am convinced are the sweetest, funniest, kindest group of people around. You inspire me and keep me going and I’m not sure I’d be one third as productive without you. Big tackle hugs to all.
More thanks to Kara H. for organizational excellence and helping me get the word out. (No one would have heard of the books without you!) Thanks to the Facebook groups who have welcomed me in, to the bloggers who have taken a chance on a newbie, and to everyone who has taken time out of their day to write and post a review.
And of course, many thanks to my husband, who not only loves me well, but also supports me in everything I do. I don’t know how I got so lucky, man, but I am hanging on tight to you.
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About the Author
Lili Valente has slept under the stars in Greece, eaten dinner at midnight with French men who couldn’t be trusted to keep their mouths on their food, and walked alone through Munich’s red light district after dark and lived to tell the tale.
These days you can find her writing in a tent beside the sea, drinking coconut water and thinking delightfully dirty thoughts.
Lili loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her via email at [email protected] or like her page on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLiliValente?ref=hl
You can also visit her website: http://www.lilivalente.com/
Also By Lili Valente
The complete Under His Command Series is
Available Now:
Controlling Her Pleasure (Book One)
Commanding Her Trust (Book Two)
Claiming Her Heart (Book Three)
The Bought By the Billionaire Series releases
Summer of 2015:
Dark Domination (Book One)
Deep Domination (Book Two)
Desperate Domination (Book Three-July)
Divine Domination (Book Four-August)
