by Sara Fields
I rushed toward the house and practically dove back into the door that Santiago had led me out of just minutes ago. Once I was inside, I slammed the door behind me and locked it just as quickly.
The constant pop of gunfire wasn’t as loud anymore, but my ears still rang from being so close to it. I ran through the hall and happened upon a small servants’ kitchen. I raced inside and began to open the drawers. I found a pair of scissors and started tearing into the mountains of lace around my waist. I hid in the oversized pantry as I cut through the skirts, trying to be as quiet as possible in case anyone was prowling inside. It took forever to cut through all the lace, but when I finally freed my legs from it, I sighed in open relief. I tossed the remnants behind me, kicked off my heels, and curled up inside the pantry, waiting for the gunfire to quiet down outside the house.
I wasn’t about to run back into the fray. One stray bullet would be enough to do me in. I’d wait until it was over until before I decided what to do next. For a while, it was quiet around me, the silence punctuated by the occasional blast of gunfire outside until at long last, that quieted too. I didn’t rush out quite yet, deciding that it would be better to give it a bit longer. Eventually, my body grew stiff, and I stood up, stretching my legs and pressing my ear to the door.
I heard nothing.
I opened the door and crept slowly out into the kitchen. The tile was cool beneath my bare feet. I paused by the entryway, listening for evidence of anyone and hearing nothing. I looked up and down the hallway. After several long minutes, I decided it sounded safe enough and hurried back in the direction of where I’d first been led into the house. I paused by the suite where Esmerelda had attended to me and peered inside.
She was sitting there on the bed. Without thinking, I rushed into the room and grasped her hand. She jumped when I touched her, apparently too lost in her thoughts to have seen me enter.
“Come with me. Quickly,” I whispered, and she simply nodded. She looked like she was almost in a daze.
Together, we ran through the house and out the side door.
“Come on. As fast as you can,” I added and sprinted out the door. She darted beside me, and we both ran into the woods. I tried to ignore the ground beneath my feet, but a few sharp stones bit at my soles with ferocious intensity. I stumbled at first but pushed through. The two of us tore through the jungle and I breathed a sigh of relief once I saw the sedan still sitting there where it had been left this morning. In a rush, I lurched toward the driver’s side door and tried the handle.
It was open.
“Fancy meeting you here,” a male voice scoffed, and I stilled. It was vaguely familiar. When I looked up, I recognized him to be the man I’d been calling Righty. Lefty was by his side too.
I still had the scissors in my hand. Bravely, I stood up. I knew my hair was probably a mess and my dress was in shambles, but that didn’t matter. I wasn’t about to let these two men stop Esmerelda and me from getting away from the cartel forever.
Righty went to grab the gun at his waist as he took a step toward me, but I was ready. I used the power in my legs to push off the ground and jump at him with everything in me. He didn’t even have a chance to aim the gun in my direction before I’d latched onto his chest. I brought my arm up quickly and stabbed him in the throat with everything I had.
He didn’t have a chance. The scissors were sharp and slid through his flesh as though it were paper.
Behind me, I could hear Lefty growling with fury as Righty’s blood surged from his neck. I could feel the warm wet liquid spraying me and I quickly pushed off of him, jumping back onto the ground and landing on my feet.
The deafening roar of a gun exploded behind me, and I stilled.
For a moment, I felt nothing. I pressed my hands to my stomach, expecting pain and finding only blood. A numbness passed through my fingers as my ears rang, and I rocked side to side as I fought with the sudden urge to throw up.
I expected death to hurt.
Someone collapsed behind me. I heard the sickening crunch of a skull hitting rock.
“Kitten,” a voice purred.
“Grayson,” I cried, spinning around and praying it wasn’t too late.
I lifted my eyes to see him standing across from me. He looked perfect, his suit immaculate and his eyes glinting with concern.
Was this what it felt like to die? Was I dreaming? Was he even real or was this just a figment of my imagination?
I didn’t dare look away. My heart pounded dangerously loud in my chest, and I whined quietly. My head wouldn’t stop ringing and I couldn’t get a handle on the way air was whizzing in and out of my lungs. Maybe I was hyperventilating.
He took a step toward me and loosened my fingers. Only vaguely aware that I was still holding the bloody scissors in them, I let my weapon fall to the ground. I wanted to get closer to him. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to find out he was real.
Shouldn’t I be dead right now? Shouldn’t the bullet wound start to hurt?
I took a step toward him, but he was faster.
“My bride,” he said and at once, his arms surrounded me with their warmth.
“My…” I began, but I really didn’t have the capacity to form words.
“I’d thought I’d lost you,” he whispered. His voice shook with emotion. I pushed back against his chest. I whirled my head around and my head finally stitched together what happened. Lefty was lying there dead on the ground. I’d killed Righty. Lefty must have made a move to shoot me, but Grayson had slain him before he could get a shot off. A quiet keening noise escaped my throat.
This wasn’t a dream. His arms around me weren’t just my imagination.
“You’re real,” I cried.
“Of course I’m real,” he replied, and I threw my arms around his waist. He clutched me tight and warm relief cascaded over me like a tropical rainstorm. For a while, I just enjoyed the feeling of his body against mine before I remembered the danger surrounding us all again.
“We have to get out of here. It’s not safe,” I blurted out.
“It’s been handled. Nemesio and his goons have been taken care of,” he said firmly.
“But…” I began.
“Shh, kitten. I’ve got you. You’re safe now,” he chided, and I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against his chest. He knelt down just enough to slip an arm around my waist. The other slid behind my legs and he lifted me off the ground as if I didn’t weigh anything at all.
“It’s time for us to go,” he whispered.
“Wait. Esmerelda too,” I exclaimed. I lifted my head to see her on the edge of the clearing. “She won’t hurt me.”
Grayson stopped and stared back at her.
“Make a choice. You can come with us, or you can stay here and wait for cartel reinforcements to arrive,” he offered.
Esmerelda didn’t wait for the second option. She jogged toward us and followed us as we walked down the road. The reverberations from a waiting helicopter vibrated through the air and as I looked back at her, she smiled knowingly.
I didn’t have to tell her that this was the man I would have fantasized about if Nemesio had been able to force me to his bed.
Chapter 11
The three of us climbed into the waiting helicopter. We barely had time to sit down before it took off. I watched the ground grow small outside the window as we rose into the air, seeing a group of men in white cargo vans pull up in front of the villa only to be greeted by the ruthless gunfire from Grayson’s men. Not wanting to see any more blood or death, I turned away and curled up beside my rightful husband, needing his protection as well as his warmth.
I shivered hard and he gathered me into his lap. For a long time, we were silent. Esmerelda sat across from us, just watching as we cuddled together. Her eyes were warm and eventually she looked away with a wistfully soft smile. Even though she was right there, it felt like she was far away.
Grayson kissed the top of my head, and I chewed my bottom lip as my hear
t fluttered at his much-needed gentleness. He squeezed me tighter and I was suddenly overcome with intense emotions that demanded a voice.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you too, my pretty bride,” he answered.
With a soft sigh, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, more than a little exhausted from the harrowing events of the day and finally content now that I was back in his arms. I woke up again once we landed, groggily opening my eyes to find us at a new port. It was a private dock set off on a white sandy beach and there wasn’t another soul in sight.
His yacht was waiting a short distance away. I sighed in relief.
I moved to get off his lap, but he didn’t let me.
“No. I will carry you onto my ship and you will let me take care of you,” he scolded firmly, and I knew better than to fight him right now. To be honest, I didn’t want to because his demanding nature was making me feel safe.
I stayed quiet as he carried me off the helicopter and all the way down the docks to the gangway of his yacht, enjoying the no-nonsense way he insisted on caring for me. I couldn’t see her, but I knew Esmerelda wouldn’t be far behind us.
“I don’t want to see land for the next three days,” Grayson barked at a nearby crewmember, and he scurried off, likely to give orders to the captain. Grayson paused and cleared his throat, turning backwards as he began to speak again.
“There are extra crew cabins down below. You are welcome to whatever one you desire,” he said, looking back at Esmerelda. She nodded and bowed her head in deference.
“Thank you, Mr. Asher,” she whispered. “You won’t regret this.”
“You’re welcome to enjoy the amenities of the ship if you like,” he offered.
“I’d like to make myself useful in the kitchens, if at all possible,” she answered, and he nodded.
“As you wish,” he replied. “I must go. I have need to see to my wife.”
He turned away without another word and descended into the ship, making his way toward the master suite. He closed the door behind us with his foot before he carried me into the bathroom. With a shaky breath, he placed me down on the tile.
I swallowed hard. My lungs stopped working as we just eyed each other.
There was a savage wildness in his gaze, an open panic painted all over his face as he stared at me in a wedding dress that wasn’t his. I had a feeling that I was looking back at him with the same terrified expression and the sudden loss of his touch felt like a raw wound. I couldn’t help but reach for him. He forcefully grabbed my hands and pulled me flush against him.
“How did you find me?” I managed to whisper. My voice shook with every single syllable as his fingers tightened around mine painfully hard, but I didn’t much care.
“I’d heard rumors that Nemesio was looking for you, that he still wanted to take you as his wife despite the fact that I’d purchased your contract myself. Before we’d arrived, my men had cased the port; we’d made sure it was safe. I’d offered a ridiculous sum of money in exchange for any information,” he began.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen. There was a boy. He’d gotten hurt,” I tried to explain.
“I know, my sweet bride. I’m not angry with you. The woman who owned the lingerie shop saw what happened. She saw him lead you off into the jungle and when she was certain she wouldn’t be followed, she came to me. By the time I reached the spot where you’d been taken, it was too late,” he replied. “You were already gone.”
“But you came for me,” I whispered, fighting back a sob.
“I wouldn’t have rested until you were safe with me again,” he swore, and I knew that every word was the truth. “I made a vow and I intend to keep it for the rest of my life.”
He pulled me closer and firmly captured my lips in a hard, persistent, and desperate kiss that left my head reeling and my heart pumping inside my chest.
At once, the dress felt too constricting. The neck was too tight, and I struggled to draw in enough air.
“Please. I don’t want to wear his dress. Take it off. I need it off,” I cried out. His gaze darkened and he spun me around, gripping the fabric around my neck firmly before he tore it open from the back. Buttons popped off everywhere, but I didn’t care. He didn’t hesitate and tore that frightfully ugly dress to shreds. He destroyed it from the neckline down until it finally fell to the floor in a mess of tattered fabric.
The bra and panties weren’t mine either and he tore them off next. He wasn’t gentle, but I didn’t want him to be. I needed his roughness. I needed to feel his touch on my bare skin, so I forgot everything that had happened today.
He ripped my panties off with wild abandon, fueled by my needy cries of aroused agony. My pussy throbbed hot, scalded by the tearing of the lace before he shredded the thin cloth of my bra. He captured my nipples in his hands and twisted them impossibly hard, causing me to cry out and arch into his touch. His palms cupped around my breasts and unexpectedly, he stilled.
“Come. It is not yet time for that yet,” he murmured, and I whined softly in disappointment as I tried to pull him back closer to me. Quickly, he whirled me around and smacked my bottom hard twice. The sting was sharp, and it caught me off guard, but it was enough to make me pause.
“Don’t you worry, my pretty bride. You’ll get what’s coming to you, but I need to make sure you’re not hurt before I punish that gorgeous little body of yours,” he growled, and my pussy squeezed tight in raw anticipation.
“Punish?” I asked in a hushed whisper.
“Oh, yes, kitten. I have plans for that naughty bottom that will leave you very sore. I want you to think about that as I bathe you and inspect every beautiful inch of you,” he scolded, and I whimpered almost inaudibly. He turned away and started filling the tub with water. He poured a number of soaps and scented oils into it. Without another word, he turned back to me and started running his hands all over my skin.
“You’ve cut your shoulder, but it isn’t particularly deep. I’ll have to clean that, but we can bandage that, and it’ll heal good as new,” he observed. His touch was warm, almost clinical. “Did anyone touch you?” he growled, and I quickly shook my head.
“No, sir. I’m still yours,” I quipped.
“That’s right, kitten. You’ll always be mine,” he said firmly, and an aroused shiver raced down my spine. A soft smile edged at the corners of my lips.
His hands slid along my breasts and my torso.
“You will tell me if anything hurts to the touch,” he demanded.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered.
He ran his fingers up and down my arms. He was careful to avoid the injury on my shoulder, but nothing else was particularly painful aside from a few other scratches.
“Sit down on the edge of the tub. I need to take a look at your feet, kitten,” he instructed gently as he offered me a hand. I took it.
I heard him suck in a breath.
“You’ve got several cuts on the bottoms of your feet, sweetheart,” he murmured.
Someone knocked on the door. Grayson’s face was tense for a moment before he realized it was just a crewmember with an open bottle of red wine and a glass.
“Put it down on the table. Pour it for her,” he instructed, and the woman nodded curtly. She put the platter down on a small side table by the tub. After she finished filling the glass, she quickly made her way out of the bathroom and I heard the door shut, indicating that she’d left the master suite.
“Come now. Let’s get you clean, then I’ll take care of your injuries,” he said. Slowly, he guided me into the bathtub, and I sighed with pleasure as the warm water embraced me.
He took all the wayward bobby pins out of my hair and shook it out before he shampooed and conditioned it. There was no rush to his movements, just a caring thoroughness that made my heart pound with adoration. Next, he ran a soft washcloth over my skin. He was exceedingly gentle with my shoulder. His other hand massaged the back of my head while he ran a little bit of so
ap over it, soothing me even when a frisson of sudden pain caused me to draw in a breath.
“I’m almost done, kitten,” he promised, and I relaxed once more. He washed and rinsed the rest of my body until it was finally time to deal with my feet.
“Lean back and lift them out of the water for me. This part may hurt a bit, but I have to make sure I get all the dirt out so the scratches can heal properly. I’m sorry. Be strong for me, kitten,” he said gently, his regret raw.
With a soft whimper, I did as he asked. He started working on my right foot first and I closed my eyes, knowing that he was right. I sucked in a breath as a sharp pinch caught me off guard, but it quickly faded.
“There now, this one isn’t so bad. The sole is pretty scratched up, but a few small bandages and some antiseptic should handle that just fine,” he observed.
He moved onto the left foot next. His work on this one didn’t take as long and in no time at all, he’d finished.
“That one isn’t quite as scratched up as your right,” he added, and he smiled warmly before he handed me the glass of wine. “Here, I want you to enjoy this. After you’re finished, I’ll bandage you up and then the two of us are going to bed.”
“But I…” I began, and he shook his head, cutting me off before I could finish. My pussy pulsed greedily, and I pouted.
“I know what you want, kitten, but that’s not what you need tonight. You need to get some rest. I will deal with that naughty bottom tomorrow,” he said. There was a dangerous edge to his tone, and I swallowed hard.
Did I want to know what he meant? Was this the time that curiosity would kill the cat?
“You mean you’ll punish me tomorrow?” I asked shakily.
“Yes, kitten,” he answered.
“Promise?” I whispered hoarsely. I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know why I would ask for something like that.
“I promise, kitten,” he answered firmly, and for some insane reason I didn’t recognize, I breathed a sigh of relief.
Knowing that seemed to settle me. After all the danger and uncertainty that I’d experienced today, it felt like something I could trust and depend on.
