Night Rogues [Night 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Leah Brooke

  His eyes continued to sweep the room, the bored look on his face not fooling her for a minute.

  He missed nothing.

  She knew also how quickly he could strike without warning.

  He moved confidently, his stride graceful and full of arrogance as he glided through the crowd and closer to where she stood. She knew instinctively that his lovemaking would be just as graceful and confident.

  Serena drew in a shaky breath, her hands tightening on her purse as she waited.

  She knew the exact moment he saw her.

  He’d found his target.

  Her.

  For the first time, she wondered why he was looking for her. She’d never considered it before, but now wondered.

  He stilled, as though sensing her presence, and turned toward her, his golden eyes locking on hers and holding them.

  In that moment she knew her life would never be the same.

  His razor-sharp gaze swept over her, from her head to her toes, making her entire body burn, and washing away the last of the cold evil clinging to her. She couldn’t tear her gaze from his, caught in a web she had no hope of escaping.

  The golden heat scorched her, branding her as his forever.

  Frozen in place, she watched him walk toward her.

  She would be his. It was destined.

  The voices around her faded more as he closed the distance between them.

  He extended his hand, the raw sexuality in his smile weakening her knees. He even smelled sexy and expensive. “Hello. You must be Elise’s cousin, Serena Abbott. I’ve heard a lot about you. My name is Alastair Wyndham. Everyone calls me Wyn.”

  With a sense of inevitability, Serena placed her hand in his, unable to hold back a gasp at the jolt of power and raw sensuality that shot through her. Because of it, her senses whirled and she spoke without thinking. “No. You’re not. You’re Ian Wyndham, his brother.”

  Chapter Two

  Distracted by her incredible beauty and thoughts of spending hours exploring the fullest, most sensuous lips he’d ever seen, and lost in the color of her magnificent eyes, Ian lost precious seconds before her words penetrated. When they did, the adrenaline kicked in and only years of experience allowed him to keep his absolute shock from showing.

  He froze, his mind racing.

  He didn’t know how the hell she could know something that no one else in the world knew, but he was going to find out.

  Suddenly, the beauty standing in front of him became a threat, probably the largest threat he’d ever confronted, and he had only seconds to figure out how to deal with her.

  A quick glance around told him that the other guests stood too far away to hear what she’d said, but he couldn’t take any chances.

  He had to get her the hell out of there before something else spurted out of her mouth and destroyed everything.

  Gripping her arm, he quickly rushed her toward the nearest exit, shaken for the first time in years.

  How the hell did she know that?

  I have no fucking clue, but I’m going to find out. I have to bring her home. She was talking to Carello and who the hell knows who else? His men are already headed this way.

  As he’d expected, Anthony Carello’s henchmen moved toward him from several directions, forcing Ian to change his path in an effort to avoid a confrontation.

  He didn’t doubt his ability to overpower them, but doing such a thing would be out of character, much like kidnapping a woman, but in that he had no choice. He didn’t know what she would say next, and he had no idea if she was working with Carello or not, but he couldn’t take the chance of letting her get away from him.

  When Carello’s men stopped in their tracks, Ian looked over his shoulder to see that they’d done so at a signal from their boss. Shaking his head once at his men, Anthony Carello glared at him, his eyes like two chips of ice, glittering with the promise of retribution. He obviously didn’t want to create an incident at his wedding reception and in full view of some of the most powerful men in the city.

  Ian grinned coldly and kept moving, knowing he wouldn’t have much time. Once outside, he would be out of view of witnesses, and Carello’s men would have the chance to make their move.

  Grateful for his foresight in overtipping the valet to keep his car close, he raced to it, half carrying his surprisingly subdued prisoner. Bundling her into the passenger seat, he looked over his shoulder toward the building, his jaw clenching at the flurry of activity as Carello’s men worked their way through the crowd.

  He couldn’t take the time to wonder why she went with him without a fight, not with Carello’s men on his tail, and he sure as hell wouldn’t give her the opportunity to change her mind. He rushed around the car, prepared to sprint after her if she bolted. He folded himself into the driver’s seat, slamming the door and throwing the car in gear at the same time. He hit the gas, his gaze on Carello’s men as they raced toward them, some already with guns in their hands. He roared past them, quickly turning the next corner so they had no shot.

  He glanced at his reluctant passenger, who sat with her hands clenched into fists on her lap. Even in the low light from the dashboard, he could see she trembled and had turned as white as a sheet. “Put your seat belt on.”

  He followed his own advice, and then took her buckle with a curse when she fumbled, and snapped it in place himself. He kept glancing at her, doing his best to fight the undeniable pull. He wondered if Carello had set her up as bait for him, or if she was genuinely as frightened as she looked.

  Anyone else would have put up a struggle, and the fact that she hadn’t roused his suspicions. He couldn’t think of a single reason for her to come with him so willingly.

  He inwardly cursed, not appreciating the irrational and unwanted stirring in his groin as he surreptitiously breathed in her clean, fresh scent. No matter how beautiful she was, he didn’t trust her. He couldn’t trust her.

  Did she speak with Carello?

  Hell, she had him so shaken, he hadn’t even thought of his brother.

  Yes, but she didn’t look happy about it.

  Is she giving you a lot of trouble?

  Ian frowned and glanced over to find her staring out the side window, clutching her purse tightly in her lap. No. No resistance at all.

  Her easy acceptance put him on edge. He would have to see if that fear he saw in her eyes could be used against her.

  He’d kidnapped her, but somehow felt that he’d fallen right into her plans.

  Wait a minute! She didn’t fight you? Don’t you think that’s a little odd?

  Jolted at the reminder that he’d been mentally talking to his brother, he inwardly cursed and once again focused on the problem at hand. Very. He looked again at the rearview mirror. I’ve got a tail. Two, in fact. I’m coming in at the side gate. Hot.

  Got it… Ian, is she as beautiful as she looked in the picture?

  Breathing in her tantalizing scent, Ian gritted his teeth. And then some. She’s not one of your conquests, Alastair. She’s a threat to us now, and short of killing her, we don’t have a hell of a lot of options here.

  Irritated with himself, Ian fought to ignore the headache that pounded just over his right eye.

  Serena Abbott could jeopardize everything he and his brother had spent years building. He sure as hell couldn’t afford to let anything distract him—least of all his attraction for her.

  He suspected she would be more dangerous to him and his brother than any woman he’d ever met—and he didn’t have a clue what the hell to do about it.

  She’d already gotten under his skin, a weakness he couldn’t afford.

  He wanted to protect her. Shake her. Fuck her until that calm aura surrounding her melted under a wave of passion.

  Instead, he would probably have to kill her.

  Something told him that doing so would also kill a part of him, and it made no sense at all.

  * * * *

  After opening her mouth and making the mistake of calli
ng her dream man a liar, Serena found herself being hustled out of the reception with a speed that left her breathless.

  Only his hold on her kept her from falling, her ankles twisting painfully in her high heels.

  Her kidnapper bundled her into a low-slung car and raced into the night with a calm expertise that convinced her that he’d had a lot of practice at this kind of thing.

  She rubbed her arm again where it still tingled from his touch, struggling to keep her mind clear and ignore the way his nearness made her aware of her femininity in ways she’d never experienced.

  She felt flushed and warm, needy inside, and yearning for something that would change her forever. Every nerve ending in her body tingled with an incredible awareness, sensitizing her everywhere and jarring her senses.

  She couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to be kidnapped without a struggle, but he’d taken away the cold, replacing it with a warm, soothing feeling that she’d found irresistible.

  She doubted if she’d have had much luck in escaping him anyway. He seemed more than capable of overcoming any struggles she might have made.

  She leaned her head back, grateful to be away from all of the incessant noise. Combined with the music and conversation, the thoughts and information coming from hundreds of people on all sides had given her a headache that made even speaking hurt.

  It had taken her years to figure out that the noise in her head came from the people around her. She’d tried to tune it out, to no avail.

  She’d tried to make sense of it—to separate it into something more manageable, but hadn’t succeeded at that either.

  Nothing worked, except escaping it.

  Slipping her shoes off and experimentally rolling her sore ankles, she took several deep breaths, embracing the silence. Tightening her grip on her purse, she slumped weakly in her seat and closed her eyes against the approaching headlights, which made her head hurt even more.

  She’d begun to suspect that her headaches grew with her gift. Because of her inability to block others out, she’d stayed away from people for years, not wanting to deal with the pain, but tonight it had been stronger than ever, and the torrent of evil left her in agony.

  The powerful purr of the engine and the calm steadiness of the man sitting beside her soothed her, easing the viselike pressure inside her head, and made her feel safe for the first time since she’d left home. It did nothing, however, to decrease the nervous fluttering inside caused by his powerfully masculine presence.

  He’d actually kidnapped her.

  She should have been hysterical. She should have been crying and screaming in fear. Instead, she concentrated on keeping her breathing even and relaxing one muscle at a time in an effort to ease her pain so she could think clearly.

  Contrary to every one of her mother’s warnings, and news stories she’d ever heard over the years, she trusted a stranger, confident that he had no plans to harm her.

  She had an edge on others, though. She would have known if he intended to hurt her.

  She turned her head slightly, unable to resist looking at him while he was distracted by his driving and whatever he kept glancing at in the rearview mirror. Because of her headache and the oncoming lights, she couldn’t open her eyes wider than slits, but it was enough.

  He proved to be an excellent driver, weaving in and out of traffic with expert precision, handling the wheel and gearshift gracefully and with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

  She’d never liked arrogance, but had to admit she found it sexy as hell on him.

  A flash of those hands moving over her body disappeared as quickly as it came, but left her hot and flushed.

  She hadn’t fallen asleep. She was almost sure of it, but the vision she’d had, although short, had been real.

  She was awake, and had had a vision.

  She never had visions while she was awake.

  Wondering if it had been wishful thinking on her part, she swallowed heavily, unable to keep from looking at his hands.

  Concentrating on keeping her breathing even, she watched his hands as he sped through the night, knowing that he would make love with the same expertise and graceful moves that he displayed now.

  His strong presence made the small confines of the powerful car feel even smaller. Nearly overwhelmed by his impact on her senses, she struggled to keep her breathing steady, hoping his driving held his attention too much for him to notice how her breath hitched each time he moved.

  The soft material of her dress teased her unusually sensitive nipples, making her breasts feel heavy and swollen, the friction making even her slit tingle. Embarrassed that her panties became damp, she rubbed her thighs together, stilling when his gaze flew to her lap.

  He knew. She didn’t know how he knew of her arousal. She only knew that he did.

  She also knew that it made him even more tense.

  Not knowing what to do, she straightened in her seat, and stared out the windshield, pretending she didn’t feel his scrutiny. She didn’t take a steady breath, though, until his driving demanded his attention and he turned away again. The buzzing in her head made it hard to focus, but at least here she had no unwanted noise from others hammering at her. It made it easier for her to pay attention to him, and to wonder just what plans he had for her.

  Disconcerted that she couldn’t tell, she mentally shrugged, trusting her instincts, while sneaking glances at him every chance she got.

  She rubbed her arm where it still burned from his touch, before crossing her arms across her chest to press them against her breasts in an effort to ease the ache in her nipples.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  Serena gasped and whipped her head around to face him, shocked that he’d been paying closer attention to her than she’d thought. Struck by the intensity of his sharp gaze, she took a deep breath and turned away before answering. “No.”

  Now that they were away from the crowd at the reception and she’d begun to get her bearings, she started to feel a little more like herself again. As traffic thinned, she felt even better, except for the headache that lingered. It allowed her awareness of the man next to her to grow with each passing mile.

  So did her knowledge of things he probably wouldn’t want her to know.

  Lies were a big part of his life, perhaps the biggest part of it. He didn’t trust and he couldn’t be trusted.

  He was on the side of good. She felt it as much as she’d felt Anthony Carello’s evil.

  Or did the knowledge that he would be her lover let her see just want she wanted to see, blinding her to the truth?

  She shivered, uncertain now.

  “Are you cold?”

  Serena jumped, once again surprised that he’d noticed. “No.” She turned to look out the window again, unsettled by his scrutiny. She’d become so accustomed to being alone that attention of any kind disconcerted her, but she found herself totally unprepared for the kind of masculine focus coming from Ian Wyndham.

  Cursing the headache that got worse by the minute, she fought to focus on the ordeal at hand, finding it harder and harder to concentrate.

  “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I won’t hurt you, at least until I find out what you’re up to.” The anger in his tone didn’t surprise her, but the hurt did.

  With a sigh, Serena leaned back against the headrest. “I know.”

  With another glance in the rearview mirror, Ian took a sharp corner, not even touching the brake.

  “I’m taking you to my home. You and I have a lot to talk about, like how close you are to Anthony Carello. You’ll be perfectly safe from Carello’s men there.”

  “And from you?”

  Ian smiled coldly. “That depends on your answers.”

  She didn’t reply, or mention that she already knew where he was taking her, or that she’d just met her cousin’s husband tonight. She’d already gotten herself into trouble by blurting out that she knew he’d lied about being his brother.

  The touch of
his hand on her arm created a jolt of heat that had her stiffening and whipping her head around in alarm.

  He cursed and jerked it back, a look of shock in his eyes. His jaw tightened as he glanced out the windshield, and after a lengthy, tension-filled silence, he met her gaze again. “I’ll have someone collect your things from the hotel. You’ll be my guest until we get a few things sorted out.”

  Serena looked up at him, struck by the flash of hunger in his eyes, brilliant even in the low light of the dashboard. “That’s not quite true, now, is it? Guests are permitted to leave and aren’t manhandled. I’m your prisoner.”

  Raising a brow, he inclined his head. “So be it. Prisoner, though, is a little dramatic. And if I manhandled you, Miss Abbott, you’d know it.”

  The erotic threat in his tone came through loud and clear, creating an answering need inside her to know his touch.

  She closed her eyes, alarmed, and a little intrigued at her body’s reaction to the intimacy in his tone.

  Knowing that anything she said would only make her sound naïve, anger him, or tell him more than she wanted him to know, she pressed her lips together and looked out the side window. To her chagrin, the warmth spread, leaving her body humming with awareness. She tried to ignore the fluttering in her abdomen, her toes curling into the soft carpet as the delicious hunger spread.

  He slowed and turned onto a side road, his smile cold as he looked into the rearview mirror.

  Alarmed at the speed they approached the large, wrought iron gate she saw in the distance, she gripped her purse tighter, biting her lip to keep from crying out. Her heart pounded furiously when the gate opened and they sped through with only inches to spare on either side.

  Not appearing to notice her fear, Ian kept his eyes on the rearview mirror as they drove through, his smile widening. “Looks like Carello is going to be a little upset on his wedding night. If the rumors are true, your cousin’s in for a real treat.”

  Serena turned in time to see the gates close just as wheels screeched when another car slammed on its brakes, skidding to a stop just in time to avoid the large gates. “Who’s in that car?”