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

by Leah Brooke

  Ian slowed. “Carello’s men followed us from the reception. They already knew where I live, but I think they wanted to stop me from bringing you here.” He flashed her a threatening grin. “They can’t get to you now. Their boss is going to be very unhappy with them. He can’t come to save you either. Carello doesn’t like to be thwarted.”

  Saving her would be the last thing on Carello’s mind, but since Ian seemed determined to believe otherwise, she kept silent.

  The imposing fence all around them appeared to go on for miles, each post holding a spotlight which lit up the entire grounds. Turning back to look out the windshield, she couldn’t keep her mouth from dropping when she got a good look at the size of the house, mansion would be a better word for it, which loomed in front of them. She’d never seen a house as large as the one they approached before, except maybe in a magazine. Made of stone, it stood tall and imposing, somehow not appearing at all cold.

  With the lights coming from several windows, the well-manicured lawn, and the dogs racing over to greet them, this place screamed home to her.

  That scared her more than anything else that had happened tonight.

  When Ian parked the car in front of the steps leading to the front door, she reached for her door handle, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm, sending another surge of electricity up her arm. “I’ll come around for you.” He pointed to the dogs. “They’re guard dogs. They won’t hurt you if you’re with me, but if you try to escape, you should know they’re trained to attack.”

  Nodding, she pulled her arm from his grasp, shaken by the sizzling heat that centered at her nipples. Each time he touched her or looked at her it got harder and harder to hide his effect on her senses, and with her head still pounding, it took way too much effort to try.

  With no warning, the awareness made itself known in her clit, the sensation so strong it took her breath away. He got out of the car, slamming the door with more force than necessary, his purposeful stride so incredibly sexy that she couldn’t hold back a moan. He never took his eyes from hers as he rounded the front of the car as if afraid she would attempt to escape.

  She would have laughed at that if she hadn’t been so consumed with lust.

  As soon as he opened the door, she swung her legs around and stood, ignoring his outstretched hand. Pressing her thighs together against the ache that settled there, an ache that only lessened when her head started pounding again, she smiled when the dogs barked a greeting and would have bent to pet them if she didn’t fear the top of her head would fall off. Later, babies.

  The dogs settled immediately, staring at her with their heads tilted to the side.

  Ian took her arm, his jaw clenching when she stiffened, the flash of hurt in his eyes surprising her. Releasing her, he gestured toward the front door, his eyes narrowing as he looked from her to the dogs and back again. “Get inside.”

  * * * *

  Irritated more with himself than with her, Ian kept a close eye on Serena as she walked into the foyer. He closed and secured the door behind him, making sure to block her view when he set the alarm. Turning, he gestured toward the living room, keeping his expression cool while inside he fumed at the fact that she flinched from him.

  Over the years, he’d become accustomed to women clinging to him, flirting with him, and offering themselves to him with very little provocation at all. The way Serena flinched from him pissed him off, which unnerved him because he shouldn’t have cared one way or the other.

  He knew he shouldn’t have expected more—after all, he’d kidnapped her—but her efforts to avoid his touch irritated the hell out of him.

  And for some reason, it hurt.

  That pissed him off even more.

  He’d spent so many years hiding his true feelings, it disturbed him how much effort it cost him to do so now. Gesturing toward the sofa, he smiled coldly.

  “Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?” He moved behind the bar to hide the evidence of his ill-timed and totally inappropriate arousal, glancing at her several times as she looked nervously around the room. He removed his jacket, tossing it aside before he got to work on his cufflinks, the whole time wondering what the hell it was about her that made him want her more than he’d ever wanted another woman.

  He wanted to know why the hell he cared if she flinched from him, or why he wanted to comfort her and erase that look of fear and sadness in her beautiful eyes.

  She rubbed her forehead, moving to the edge of the sofa and slipping off her shoes, something she’d done in the car. “May I have some water and two aspirin, please?”

  Inordinately pleased to know something intimate about her, such as the fact that she couldn’t stand shoes, he glanced up again, catching a glimpse of creamy thigh, and immediately spilled the scotch he’d been pouring. Cursing under his breath, he hurriedly wiped it up, unable to take his eyes off of her. He’d seen plenty of creamy thighs in his lifetime, usually spread high and wide, and had no idea why just an innocent flash of hers had his cock primed and ready.

  He poured her a glass of water with hands that shook, and retrieved the bottle of aspirin. “Headache?”

  He frowned that his voice came out harsher than he’d intended, but welcomed the flash of alarm in her eyes, hoping like hell he could intimidate her enough to get the upper hand.

  She unnerved him, something that very few people had ever managed to do, and the fact that she seemed almost oblivious to the effect she had on him left him even more convinced that he couldn’t trust her.

  He couldn’t trust himself.

  She enticed him by not trying to entice him more than most women could with their most blatant overtures. Settling herself in the corner of the sofa, Serena drew the material over her thigh, hiding the creamy skin from view as she curled her legs onto the sofa, leaving only her bare feet visible.

  For some reason, her tiny feet with unpainted toenails looked sexy as hell to him.

  He rolled up his sleeves and poured himself a neat whiskey, this time not spilling it. He downed it, welcoming the burn, before pouring another. Keeping an eye on her, he rounded the bar and approached her, purposely sitting on the edge of the coffee table closest to her and invading her space.

  Hiding a smile when she pushed herself farther into the corner, he set his glass on the table next to him and offered her the glass of water. Closing his hands on the aspirin bottle to prevent her from taking it, he took her hand in his, holding it as he shook two tablets into it.

  Her hand shook in his, pleasing him immensely. Even though she tried not to show it, she was very aware of him as a man, something he planned to exploit if necessary to get the answers he needed. He ran his fingers over hers before releasing them, hiding a smile when she shivered.

  He regarded her steadily, alert for any reaction. “How do you know my name?”

  He waited while she swallowed the tablets, picking up his drink and taking a slow sip, never taking his eyes from her. Irritated that she didn’t answer right away, and had no outward reaction to his question, he leaned forward, cradling his glass in his hand and taking up even more of her space.

  “Well?”

  When she turned those amazing violet-blue eyes on him, he felt it all the way to his cock.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  The slight huskiness in her soft voice was like a stroke to his cock, making him even harder. Furious that she had such an astounding effect on his senses, he deliberately kept his tone harsh.

  “Try me.”

  She sighed, a heartfelt sigh that tugged at him, and rubbed at her temple.

  “I’m psychic. Now tell me that you believe me.” She’d said it in such a low tone, he had to struggle to hear her.

  Not knowing how long he’d be able to be that close to her and not reach out and touch her, he came to his feet.

  “I don’t know if I believe you or not. Tell me about it. What do you think you know?”

  Moving to the chair close
st to where she sat, he leaned back in his seat with his drink in his hand and toed off his shoes.

  Raising a brow, he adopted his most intimidating look.

  “Well?”

  She sighed and stared toward the window.

  “I know that you and your brother work together. My head hurts too much right now to figure out what you do. None of it makes any sense. I just know that you’re on the side of good and that you really have no intention of hurting me.”

  Turning toward him, she flashed those brilliant eyes, making his mouth go dry.

  “I just know you have no intention of letting me leave and I have to figure out a way to convince you that I’m no threat to you.” Frowning, she looked away again.

  “I haven’t quite figured out how I’m a threat to you, but it’s there.”

  What the fuck do we do now?

  Shut up. She’s distracting enough.

  His own headache showed no signs of easing which made it even harder to concentrate, but he’d be damned if he showed any weakness by taking aspirin for it in front of her.

  “You’re no threat to me.”

  Her smile, full of sadness, tugged at him.

  “No, I’m not, but you don’t really believe that, do you?”

  “Why were you at Anthony Carello’s wedding reception?”

  Serena sighed again and rubbed her forehead.

  “I wasn’t. I was at my cousin’s wedding reception. She just happened to be marrying him. What were you doing there? Are you a friend of theirs?”

  He smiled, a cold, amused smile designed to shake her.

  “I thought you were psychic. You tell me.”

  Blowing out a breath, she stood, instantly putting him on alert. Instead of heading toward the door, however, she strolled to the window.

  “I should have expected that. I have no idea. You’re remarkably hard for me to read.” Staring out the window, she shook her head and immediately winced.

  “I got the strangest feeling you were there looking for me, but that doesn’t make any sense. We don’t even know each other.”

  He just barely managed to hide his shock before she turned, and could feel Alastair’s surprise as clearly as his own.

  Taking another sip of his drink, he grimaced and set it aside, his head pounding even harder.

  “Like you said, that doesn’t make any sense. Are you close to your cousin?”

  Her sad laugh made his stomach clench, and he barely resisted the urge to reach for her.

  “I haven’t seen her in years—not since my mother’s funeral. I was a little surprised to be invited. I figured she’d grown up and realized how important family is. I was wrong. She wanted me there because her mother let it slip to Anthony Carello that I was psychic. He offered me a showing and a place to live.”

  Pretending he knew nothing about her, he lifted a brow. “Showing?”

  Serena shrugged. “I paint.”

  “And? What did you say to his generous offers?”

  Turning back to the window, she shrugged again. “I declined.”

  Leaning forward, Ian set his drink on the table. “What did he have to say to that?”

  She sighed, frowning as she turned to face him again. “Not much. Someone came in and kidnapped me. Is your brother going to come out or is he going to hide in the other room all night? He’s making me nervous.”

  Hiding his surprise, he narrowed his eyes.

  “Is that supposed to impress me?”

  To his amusement, she seemed to take his question seriously, pursing her incredible lips and looking away to stare out the window again.

  “No. I think it would take a hell of a lot more than that to impress you. Besides, you probably figure it was a lucky guess.”

  A little startled because that’s exactly what he’d been thinking, he settled back, poised to go after her if she made a run for it. He got the uneasy feeling that she really did have some sort of psychic ability and decided to see if he could find out how far her gift stretched and to see if he could shake her at the same time.

  If she really did have psychic powers, he and Alastair were in big trouble. Then again, so was she.

  “Can you read my mind?”

  She answered immediately, smiling faintly and shaking her head. “No.”

  “You answered that pretty fast. How do you know?”

  She shrugged and made her way back to the sofa, stiffening when Alastair walked into the room.

  “I already tried. Wow. You’re identical twins.” Rubbing her head, she sighed. “I should have guessed that. Then which one…?” She snapped her mouth shut and looked away, her blush highlighting her violet eyes and making them appear to sparkle.

  Ian slid a glance at Alastair, silently warning his brother to let him handle this.

  “Which one what?”

  “Nothing. Are you finished with your questions? I’d really like to get back to the hotel and check out. I want to go home. I don’t know what kind of a threat you think I am to you, but I assure you, I’m not.”

  Leaning forward, he picked up his drink.

  “You said that Carello knows you’re psychic. When he offered you a showing, he didn’t do it out of the goodness of his heart.”

  She frowned, pursing her lips again in what appeared to be a habit that distracted him, and it took a tremendous amount of willpower not to move forward and taste them. “Just because I’m not sophisticated doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I know that. I also know that man’s pure evil.”

  Rubbing his forehead, Alastair got up and went to the bar, pausing in the process of pouring himself a drink. “How do you know that?”

  She lifted her chin, as though daring them to make fun of her. “I felt it.”

  Alastair took a sip of his drink and made his way back to the chair across from Ian, a position that put one of them on either side of the sofa she sat on, effectively surrounding her. Either she’s a wacko or she honestly does have a gift. My money’s on the latter.

  Ian sighed, rubbing his head and wishing this fucking headache would go away. Either way, she’s in danger now. Carello doesn’t like to be told no. If he thinks she knows something about him he doesn’t want known, he’ll get rid of her just to keep her quiet.

  Agreed. She needs to stay here where we can keep her safe. She’d be a hell of an asset.

  Ian didn’t relish having her underfoot, but he sure as hell couldn’t let her go. If she really does have the abilities she claims to have, yes, she would, but only if we could control her.

  She was the only person on the face of the earth who even knew he existed, and she’d have to be kept under wraps until he could figure out a way to keep her quiet.

  He’d just have to make her understand just how much she needed them.

  “You do realize how much danger you’re in, don’t you?”

  Pleased at the look of alarm in her gorgeous eyes, he nodded once. “Anthony Carello is not a man people say ‘no’ to. You did. On top of that, you’re a threat to him. He won’t tolerate that.”

  “Not if I go back home.”

  Alastair set his drink on the table and sat back. “You’re not that stupid.”

  Ian stiffened when she came to her feet again.

  Serena wrapped her arms around herself and moved to the window, and even from this distance, Ian could see that she trembled.

  Turning back, she shrugged. “What’s he going to do? Kill me?”

  “Yes.”

  Ian and Alastair both answered as one.

  Serena sighed, looking shaken. “I’ll just tell him the truth. I can’t tell what people are thinking. Not really. It’s just a lot of noise, all jumbled together, and I can’t make sense of it. It’s overwhelming, and if there are a lot of people, debilitating.”

  Her voice lowered. “Touching just makes it worse.”

  Alastair took a step forward, catching her when she stumbled over the hem of her long dress.

  “Carello won’t believe you. Killing you wo
uld be nothing to him.” Releasing her, he ran a hand down her arm. “If you stay here, we’ll protect you.”

  Serena laughed humorlessly. “For how long? Am I supposed to stay here for the rest of my life?”

  Yes.

  Shaken that both he and Alastair had the same thought at once, Ian came to his feet and strolled to the bar, not wanting to crowd her and make her even more nervous. She was talking now, and he wanted to keep it that way.

  He also wanted her to relax. If she feared them, they wouldn’t get anywhere with her and she would try to escape at every opportunity.

  Somehow they had to get her to trust them, and get her on their side.

  Pouring himself a drink, Ian looked up, unable to keep his eyes off of her for long, clenching his jaw at the way she kept glancing at the front door. Forcing a calmness into his tone he didn’t feel, he set the bottle back down on the bar.

  “I can’t tell you very much. After all, we’ve just met, and I don’t trust you, but you know more about us than anyone else on the face of this earth. What you know can get us killed.”

  Serena gasped, spinning toward him. “I wouldn’t do anything that would endanger you.”

  Alastair sighed. “Just by knowing about us, you endanger us. It can also make us ineffective. If word got out about us, we could no longer do our job.”

  Serena frowned. “What exactly is your job? You’re in some kind of law enforcement, aren’t you?”

  Ian grimaced and set his drink aside, knowing he needed a clear head.

  “No, not exactly.” Swirling his drink, he weighed his words, not wanting to tell her any more than he absolutely had to.

  “We have a friend who has connections. Over the years, we’ve developed a cover that lets us mingle with the kind of people who try to operate above the law.”

  Alastair sat back and frowned, brushing away a piece of lint from his trousers.

  “It’s the only way to get close enough to catch them. We’re working now to put Carello away. Once he’s behind bars, you’ll be safe.”

  Serena looked from one to the other as if deciding whether or not they were lying.

  “So, you’re not exactly in law enforcement, but you still get people arrested?”