by Sabrina York
“They didn’t want to give it over.”
“Didn’t they?”
‘I had to tell them it was a family emergency.”
“Tut-tut. Lying to the authorities?”
“I wasn’t lying. There is an emergency.”
“And what is it?”
“You weren’t answering the bloody phone! And why aren’t you answering the phone?”
“Oh? Did you call? I didn’t hear the phone ring.”
Something deep and dark rumbled over the phone line. “Where are you?”
“At your ranch house.” He bit back his grin, even though he knew Cody couldn’t see. “I thought you knew.”
“You should be able to hear the landline on the second floor.” That sounded like an accusation.
“I was asleep.”
“I’ve been calling for hours. I called Claire’s cell too. No answer. What the hell is going on?”
Charlie glanced over at the woman tangled in the blanket by his side. The skin of her bare shoulder glowed in the lamplight. He couldn’t resist a caress. He loved that it roused her. She rolled over and smiled at him. “Nothing.”
“Nothing! Goddamn it, Charlie—”
There was a tussle on the other end and a new voice chimed in. “Charlie? Charlie? Is that you?”
He sighed. “Yes it is.”
“What’s happening? Is Claire okay?”
“Of course. She’s…sleeping.”
“Why didn’t you call in? We’ve been going crazy.”
Good God. These guys needed to take a chill pill.
“Who is it?” Claire murmured.
She shouldn’t have murmured. The voice on the other end of the line squawked. “Was that her? I thought you said she was sleeping.”
“She was. Someone woke her.” He covered the mouthpiece and whispered, “Your brothers.”
“Charlie…” Cade’s voice went low and solemn. “Are you on the third floor?”
He didn’t like to lie. “Why would I be on the third floor?”
But then Claire went and ruined his prevarication by grabbing the cell phone and saying, in the sweetest voice, “Good night, Cade.”
Charlie heard the yowl from where he sat. But only a bit of it, because Claire ended the call. She sent him an angelic smile and handed him his phone. “You might want to turn the ringer off.”
Too late. The phone rang again.
“Don’t answer it.”
Good advice. But Charlie knew if he didn’t, the Silver brothers would probably turn around and hie on home. He stood up and walked away from the bed before he answered. “Yes?”
“Charlie.” Cody again. “Tell me you’re not sleeping with my sister.”
“I’m not sleeping.”
For some reason that didn’t placate him. “Goddamn it, Charlie. I thought I was clear.”
“I thought I was clear. I told you if she was feeling better, all bets were off. I was very clear about that.”
“But…” He’d never heard Cody sputter.
“Listen, Cody. I like you. I respect you. I consider you a friend. But you need to back the fuck off.” For some reason, his ire was rising. Or maybe more than one reason. He was tired of her brothers’ bullshit. He wanted nothing more than to be with Claire…without their interference.
“Back off? Back off? She’s my baby sister.”
“She’s a grown woman. And a damn fine one at that.”
Snarls ensued. A threat or two. Or more.
Charlie ignored them. “You may as well accept the fact that Claire and I are together.”
“You just met!”
“It doesn’t matter. We both have real feelings for each other. And by God, nothing is going to keep me from her. Not your threats, your indignation or your midnight phone calls. Do you understand?”
“But…”
“I’m serious, Cody. I care for your sister and I intend to be with her in any way she’ll have me. Understood?”
“But…”
“Understood?” Something in his tone must have filtered through his friend’s outrage because, after a long silence, he muttered, “All right.”
“Thank you.” Hardly any sarcasm at all.
“But you’d better be gentle with her. You’d better not hurt her, or I’ll gut you like a fish.”
“Understood. Now, Cody?”
“What?”
“Hang up the phone. And don’t call back.”
“You’d better not hurt her—”
Enough. Charlie ended the call and tossed the cell phone onto the chair. He turned back to Claire with a frown. “Your brothers—”
“Did you mean what you said?” she asked, her eyes wide, shining.
Oh crap. What had he said? He’d been in something of a rage. He sent her a crooked smile. “Which part?”
“That you want to be with me?”
He lifted his hands, encompassing the thoroughly rumpled bed. “I should think that was obvious.”
“Any way I will have you?”
Ah. He suddenly knew what she was driving at. He came back to the bed and sat beside her, pulled her up into his arms and kissed her, gently. “I did mean that.”
“This has all happened very quickly,” she said in a detached tone that made his gut go cold.
“Yes. It has. But then, I’ve been in love with you forever.”
“In…love…?” To his great satisfaction, she warmed. Had she turned away, a part of him would have died.
“Yes. Granted, it was a crush back then, and little more. But now that I know you better, now that we’ve had time to reconnect, I…” He scraped back his hair and sighed. “I just really do.”
“You do?” Her grin was decidedly impish. “Do what?”
Oh hell. She was a minx. Angling for a declaration like that, all beautiful and naked and warm. He caught her gaze and held it and then said in the most solemn tone he could manage, “I do love you, Claire. I hope that doesn’t…scare you.”
She nuzzled closer and huffed a laugh. “I’m very brave. I think I can handle it.”
Nice to know, but not what he really wanted to hear. “Do you… Do you think you might have feelings for me too? Because if this is just a physical thing, if there’s no hope for more, I think we should end it now.”
Her eyes, bright and questing, searched his. “Are you issuing an ultimatum?”
His pulse lurched. “That was not my intention.” Hell. He should have kept his damn mouth shut. “It’s just…”
“What?” The fact that she stroked his hair didn’t help.
“My feelings for you are not…casual.” He took her hand, threaded their fingers. “And I don’t know if I could be in a casual relationship. I need more.”
She was quiet for a moment—an eternity—and then she tightened her fingers and whispered, “My feelings aren’t casual either.”
Oh thank God. Not a declaration, but not a rejection either.
It was something.
Hell, it was close to everything.
He met her gaze again. “So, shall we proceed?”
“Yes.” She kissed him, oh so gently, and then whispered, “Sir.”
Chapter Thirteen
The rest of the weekend was glorious. Unlike anything Claire had ever experienced. Oh, her brothers still called to check in, but only twice, which she thought was very restrained of them.
As for her and Charlie, they explored.
And not just the physical aspect of their relationship—although there was quite a bit of that, including some things that would make her brothers’ hair stand on end, but she was hardly going to report back. They also spent hours talking, exchanging views, sharing stories. He made her laugh and awed her with his tales of life as a soldier in enemy territory.
He proved he was an excellent cook and endeavored to teach her how to fry an egg. It didn’t go well, and they went through nearly a carton before she managed to crack one without breaking a yolk. Still, he was patient and en
couraging and all the things she’d ever wanted in a man.
In fact, he was perfect.
They connected on every level, emotional, physical, intellectual and spiritual. She wanted nothing more than to continue exploring for the rest of their lives.
She was especially intrigued by his passion for kinky play. Probably because he approached it as a devotional. He gently wrapped a scarf around her wrists and tied it loosely to the headboard—so she could get free if she wished. And then he made love to her with an exquisite touch. He tormented her until she begged, but it was a glorious torment and the orgasm he incited was beyond anything she’d ever known.
He was clever, introducing her slowly to this kind of play and then, bit by bit, taking her deeper into it. And she loved it.
But she was still determined to tie him up.
It was wholly unfortunate that they happened to be in the middle of a naughty-secretary-slash-dominant-businessman scenario in her office when her brothers returned. Claire was bent over the desk, awaiting her “punishment,” when she heard the car door slam.
Charlie heard it too. “Fuck!” he snarled, lurching back to peep out the window. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Claire leaped up, yanked her panties on, pulled down her skirt and stared at him in horror. He scrambled to fasten his jeans. It was amusing, but she knew better than to be amused. “Quick,” she cried. “Into the kitchen!”
It was the first thought that came into her head, and it was inspired. The mess from breakfast was still there, so it was easy to pretend they were in the midst of making something—though what it might be, she had no clue—when everyone tromped in.
She forced a bright and innocent look on her face. “Well hey there,” she chirped. “How did it go?”
Her brothers didn’t respond right away, they simply stood there looking at the disaster on the countertops.
Lisa, however, shrieked, “What on earth have you done to my kitchen?”
Remembering what they had done here, in this room, on that table, made heat rise on Claire’s cheeks but she ignored it and said, “Charlie is teaching me to cook.”
“Oh, good God.” She frowned at Cade. There was no call for sarcasm.
“She’s doing well,” Charlie said, daring to kiss her forehead.
It was a minor miracle that her brothers didn’t lunge for him. But a muscle or two may have bunched. After a moment, Cody relaxed and forced a smile. “Anything edible yet?”
It was the first indication that he might be on the way to accepting that she and Charlie were an item.
And yes, it thrilled her that they were.
She looked up at him and their gazes clung.
“Well?” Cade clipped.
Charlie blinked. “What?”
“Anything edible yet? Cody asked if Claire’s made anything edible yet.”
“The, ah, pancakes weren’t bad.”
Claire snorted a laugh. The pancakes had been atrocious. She’d actually burned the blueberries. Just the blueberries. She had no idea how she’d done that.
But enough about her. She was tired of their scrutiny. “Tell me what happened in Austin.”
The all sat around the table while Lisa made real pancakes, and her brothers recounted how successful the event had been and that they were expecting a flood of new bookings.
But Claire didn’t hear much of it, because Charlie’s leg brushed against hers and then he found her hand with his and twined their fingers beneath the table, and everything but his presence danced from her head.
Her only regret was that their weekend alone was over.
But this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Charlie went back to work on Monday and while it was hard to adjust to his absence—she’d become so used to having him by her side—she was too busy to suffer much. Her brothers were correct. The phone started ringing off the hook and she was beset with new bookings. The calendar for the next six months filled up quickly.
And only one of those calls was the heavy breather.
About noon, a knock came on the front door and a thrill walked through her at the thought that Charlie had stopped by to see her on his lunch break. Thank God Cody was over at Ford’s discussing a stud fee for his new bull and Cade had taken Lisa into town to buy some supplies at the market.
She nearly skipped to the door.
But when she opened it, her heart plummeted.
It wasn’t Charlie.
It was Dustin.
She frowned, but tried for a friendly tone. “Hi, Dustin. What brings you here?”
To her surprise, his expression darkened. “Claire. I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you…” His gaze flicked away.
Something lurched in her chest. “What? Tell me what?”
He raked his hair. “It’s your brother, Cody. There’s been an accident.”
“Oh, God.”
“Cade’s with him in the hospital. He asked me to come get you.”
“Of course. Let me grab my purse.” Though her mind spun and every nerve screamed, she bolted into the office, grabbed her things and raced back to Dustin. He escorted her to his truck, which was parked in the drive. She hopped in and when he slid into the driver’s side and started the engine, she asked, “How bad is it? What happened? Will he be all right?”
“He’ll be fine.” For some reason, Dustin smiled. She imagined it was supposed to be comforting, but it wasn’t. In fact, there was nothing comforting about him. It hit her hard and strong just then, the difference in the two men. She wasn’t sure what it was, because they were both good-looking. Both pleasant and funny. But with Charlie, well…with Charlie there was magic. There was no other way to put it. Dustin was like a cardboard cutout next to him.
As he headed down the driveway, Claire fished in her purse for her cell phone, thinking to call Charlie to meet them at the hospital, but before she could, Dustin took it from her and tossed it in the backseat. “You won’t need that,” he said.
Something in his tone chilled her to the bone, but that was nothing to the apprehension that curled in her gut when he turned right onto the main road. She stared at him. “Where are you going?” Town was the other way. Unless—oh my God—Cody had been medevaced to Dallas. “Which hospital is he in?”
Dustin’s only response was a chuckle, which was inappropriate at best and foreboding at worst.
“Dustin!” she cried, but he only put his foot on the accelerator. The truck lurched forward. She grabbed the console for purchase and glared at him. “What the hell is going on here?”
He glanced at her and what she saw in his eyes made her stomach heave. Cold determination with a maniacal glint.
Good God. Had she ever thought him pleasant?
“See, that’s what I love about you, Claire. You are so sweet and trusting. So…easily led.”
Easily led? Where on earth had he gotten that idea?
“There hasn’t been an accident, has there?” While relief swamped her, it was overshadowed by a growing disquiet. Why would Dustin lie? What was he up to? What the hell was going on?
“Oh, there was an accident all right, Claire, my dear. But it was one of your own making.”
Hell. His tone was decidedly…creepy.
“What are you talking about?”
“Did you think I would just sit back and let my woman fuck another man?”
“I am not your woman.” When would he get it through his thick skull that—
“And to think. All I had to do to win you back was tie you to the bed.”
Something cold lodged in her belly. She stared at him as shock raced through her, burning in her veins. Charlie would never have told anyone what they’d done. So how did Dustin know? How could he have—
All of a sudden, the realization hit and it mortified her, infuriated her beyond sanity. “You were the one who came into my room when I was in the hospital.” And hell. “You set up a camera? In my room?” The truth of it was galling, horrifying and mind-numbing. Her
fury paralyzed her.
“Well of course I did. Someone had to keep an eye on you, Claire. Apparently your brothers aren’t up to the task.”
“Dustin, you had no right—”
He slammed on the brakes—she pitched forward until her seat belt caught—and whipped around to glare at her. “No right? No right? I have been faithful to you, Claire. For years. I’ve waited patiently for you to come around. To realize how perfect it was between us. You cannot deny you still have feelings for me—”
“I don’t!”
He ignored her. “We were almost there. Almost back together…when he came to town.”
“We were never back together, Dustin. Not even close. I meant it when I ended it. I don’t love you.”
“Shut up.” His snarl hit her like a wave, enrobed in his rage as it was. It took some effort, but he calmed himself and forced a smile. “We’re together now, my dearest. And we will be forevermore.”
Okay. That was it. Enough. The car was stopped, so she fumbled for the door handle and yanked.
Nothing happened.
He tipped his head and surveyed her with a look of doting condescension on his handsome features. It was chilling. “I suspected you might be upset at first, so I disabled the mechanism.” He said it so calmly it sent shivers down her spine. “But no worries. You’ll come to see that this was for the best.”
“The best?”
“That I’m the right man for you. In time, you will come to see that too.” Not bloody likely. “I would do anything for you, Claire. Can’t you see that?” He fixed her with a repentant look. “You shouldn’t have eaten the onion rings by the way. They were for him.”
She gaped at Dustin, taking in the maniacal glint in his eyes. “You poisoned me?” Holy God.
He chuckled. “Well, technically, I poisoned him. It’s hardly my fault you ate his food. You really shouldn’t have, you know. You gave me quite a scare.” He patted her hand. “But it all worked out. I knew it would. This is meant to be.”
Panic and horror sluiced through her mind. He was deranged. Totally deranged.
But if she wanted to survive, if she wanted to get out of this, it was probably a good idea to play along so he would lower his guard. The moment he did, she would escape. She had to. She stared out the window until she got her raging anxiety under control. “Where-where are you taking me?” she asked softly, in a normal tone. It cost her.
