His curse rang out. “I’m taking you home with me. Once we’re there, you will show me your injury and you will let me tend to it. I’ll see it done if I have to strap you to a chair to do it. You hear me?” He threw the truck back into gear and pulled out, spinning gravel behind them.
“I think the entire county heard you.” She turned her face away, breathing in the mild pre-dawn air as it washed over her face.
Goddamned, controlling, motherfucking, men.
That was the reason she was in this mess to begin with. It had been months since the break-in and she’d gotten lazy. She’d actually believed that Vincent had given up his quest to find his wife. And, as far as anyone knew, only Samantha knew where to look.
Carlotta Matteo was a small woman. Small enough to fit in Vincent’s friggin’ shoe and he’d beat her, with his bare hands, until she was barely breathing. And for what? Because she’d been an hour late for dinner due to a dead car battery.
So, no, Samantha didn’t have any regrets in helping the poor woman after her husband walked free.
Paid his way free was more like it.
The system only fails the innocent.
She admired the courage Carlotta had shown during the stressful relocation procedure—Sam’s version of the witness protection program. The least Sam could do was show the same grit. Matteo could kiss her ass.
Shooting at her only served to piss her off. Vincent didn’t want her dead. Sam dead meant he’d never find his wife. She’d left no paper trail. The information that existed on his wife’s whereabouts resided in Sam’s head.
Tonight was a warning. One she’d heard, loud and clear. It left only one question.
What now?
As much as she regretted Caleb getting caught in the crossfire, she was glad he was here. No matter his feelings for her, he’d helped her and she’d never forget that.
Truth be known, he’d been around a lot over the last year. Seemed he’d taken it upon himself to watch out for her because, as he’d put it, she was important to Amanda. And Caleb would do anything for his sister.
Even if that meant pulling Samantha out of a bar at four in the morning.
He’d done it before, but the last time had turned out very differently. She’d been pissed as hell then, too. But instead of being shot at, she’d stopped at an adult store and bought a new vibrator.
The last time had been much more fun.
She smiled to herself, remembering the look of horror on Caleb’s face as she waved the brown paper bag at him before ducking into her car. She knew he’d followed her, which was the primary reason she’d stopped in the first place. All part of the dance she did with this man.
They rode the rest of the way in silence.
Caleb maneuvered the truck through the underground parking garage and pulled to a stop.
“Are you okay?” he asked without looking at her.
She turned to face him. “As okay as I can be after being jerked away from my card game, reprimanded like a teenager caught out after curfew, shot at, and thrown to the ground like a calf in a ropin’ event. Pretty eventful evening, I’d say. So yeah, I’m fucking peachy, Caleb.” She smiled wide. “How are you?”
The muscles in his jaw twitched as he pushed his door open. “Let’s go.”
Samantha got out of the truck and followed him around to an elevator. He punched a keypad, inserted a key, and the doors opened. Once inside, he punched more buttons, and she settled against the corner, grateful to have something to lean against as they traveled up.
All too soon, the elevator opened and she stepped into a wide hallway that appeared to go nowhere.
“How many people live on this floor?”
“One.”
“Ah.” Samantha stood back while Caleb worked yet another keypad. “This is some setup you got here. A person would think you’re paranoid or something.”
Caleb glanced at her over his shoulder as the door clicked open. He stepped back, allowing her to go in first.
“Aren’t you going to go first and make sure it’s safe?” She was only half kidding. While she didn’t expect him to protect her, it seemed he’d made it his mission over the last few months.
“It’s safe.”
The utter confidence in his tone sent a shiver down her spine. She crossed the threshold and stopped short. Still a little tipsy, she wondered if her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.
The place was massive. And clean. Very clean. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but the large, wide-open space before her wasn’t it. Factor in the sleek, black leather furniture and, holy cow, a kitchen that would make a four-star chef salivate … Samantha was downright shocked.
Caleb’s parents had left him some money. Samantha had known that. What she hadn’t realized was how much. Considering the cost of prime real estate in Austin and the remodeling Caleb must’ve done, she had the idea it was quite a lot.
Caleb walked around her with a scowl. “Problem?”
“I … wow. This place is amazing. And sparkly.” Samantha strolled toward the kitchen area, following on Caleb’s heels. He stopped at the island that separated the kitchen from the living room.
“Sparkly, huh? Don’t sound so surprised.” His tone held a hint of amusement. “I’m not some college kid bunking in his first apartment. The Marines took care of any notion I might’ve had about being a slob. If you want messy, you’ll need to stay at Alec’s place.”
“Is that an option?”
His expression clearly said it wasn’t.
“I didn’t think so. Anyway, I’ve been to Alec’s enough to be wary of anything not sealed in an airtight can.” Samantha approached the island and, unable to resist, ran her fingers over the cool granite top. “What I could do with a kitchen like this,” she said, the reverence obvious in her breathy tone.
On the kitchen side of the island, a sink and a grill top had been installed. Perfect for anyone who wanted to cook without having their back to the rest of the room. Barstools lined the other side, providing enough seating for the whole Martin clan and then some. Along the wall behind her, an oversized stainless steel refrigerator and dual ovens were paired with more granite countertops and ample cabinet space.
“Do you entertain a lot?” She was struck with how little she knew of his private life. She’d known him for years and yet, this was the first time she’d ever been to his place, ever gotten a glimpse of his life outside of irritating the shit out of her.
“Alec and Brandon come over. Of the three of us, I have the biggest TV, so it’s almost mandatory we watch football here. Amanda and Joe stay sometimes if they’re in town and don’t want to make the drive home.”
“The biggest … TV.” She laughed and waved her arms. “Right. And where is this monstrosity hidden? Behind the treadmill, perhaps?”
He pointed up, indicating a box mounted high above the couch. “Projection. The screen comes down over the windows.” He grabbed a towel and filled a bowl with water, placing both on the counter in front of her.
Samantha shook her head. “How did I not know this about you?”
“You know I watch football.” His irritated expression melted to one that said he wasn’t so sure she did know. “This is Texas. Of course I watch football.”
He pulled out a barstool for her. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”
Moving with the silent grace she’d come to expect from him, Caleb left her there, no doubt confident she’d follow his command.
Instead, Samantha searched his cabinets until she found what she was looking for. Her nose scrunched as she got a whiff of the stout whiskey. Not the cinnamon flavor she preferred, but it would work. She raised the bottle to her lips, but thought better of it at the last second. A man that kept his condo this clean wouldn’t appreciate anyone drinking directly from his bottle. Plus, he’d just made what could pass as civilized conversation with her. She figured she owed him one.
She found a glass and took it, along with the bottle, an
d walked in the opposite direction as Caleb had gone.
He might have wanted her to sit, but there were only so many concessions a woman could make in one night.
* * *
“Open the door, Samantha.” Caleb sounded angry.
Samantha sat on the edge of the tub and contemplated how long it would take before he busted the door in. He’d given her time to take a quick shower, but she was only delaying the inevitable. If Caleb wanted to inspect her wound, he’d do it. No if’s, and’s, or but’s about it. He didn’t make empty threats. Any resistance on her part would land her tied to a chair.
She didn’t want his hands on her—touching her, prodding her—even in a patch-’em-up capacity. Between the night she’d had and the whiskey, her emotions were all over the place. She didn’t need to become a blubbering mess, or worse, a horny maniac, once he put his hands on her. At this point, both were entirely possible.
“Samantha!”
She jumped at his pound on the door. Right. Time to get this over with.
She jerked the door open and pressed a hand to her mouth, suppressing the giggle that squeezed out. Oh, yeah. He was really angry.
“Something amusing?”
She threw him a little honesty. “When your nostrils flare like that, you remind me of those cartoon bulls. You know, the ones all red in the face with smoke coming out of their pierced noses?”
The muscles in his neck flexed as if he were forcing himself to remain calm. “What are you doing in here? Hiding?” He pushed past her, carrying the bowl of water from the kitchen, along with an arm full of first aid supplies and what looked to be a T-shirt. His gaze landed on the whiskey bottle. “You’re drinking?”
“Yep.” She raised her glass in silent toast and took a healthy swig. The liquid warmed a path to her belly as she swallowed it down. “Wanna join me?”
He dropped the supplies next to the sink and turned to face her, his arms crossed over his well-muscled chest. “The sun’s almost up.”
“Shot at,” she said dryly and resumed her position on the edge of the tub. Even in her slightly tipsy state she could tell he was fighting the urge to yell. His hands—big, strong hands—flexed into fists. The muscles in his legs protested against tight denim as he approached her, and then turned to pace.
Approach. Pace. Approach. Pace.
She hoped he made a decision soon, because he was making her dizzy.
Finally, he turned and leaned his ass against the counter. “What were you thinking tonight?”
His tone made her bristle. She wasn’t a sixteen-year-old who’d broken curfew. “Can you be more specific? I thought a lot of shit tonight. For instance, I thought those boys back at the bar were about the worst card players I’ve ever seen. I had a few choice thoughts when I spotted you walking into the bar. More recently, I thought, man, I hope we don’t get killed before I have time to chew Alec’s ass for sending you after me. I’m currently having a few thoughts about what I’d like to do with your arrogant tone. Which thought was it you were looking for, exactly?”
His insolent gaze met hers. “How about when you thought, ‘I think it’s a great idea to put on a sexy shirt that shows more skin than it covers, and then go to an obscure biker bar with a man I don’t even know’? When did you have that thought, Samantha?”
“You think my shirt is sexy?” Not the point, but her body responded anyway. Her breasts grew heavy; her nipples pressed through the thin material of her blouse. She tried to be covert, folding her arms across her body and rubbing her arms as if she were cold.
But Caleb didn’t miss a thing. His eyelids flared wide before narrowing again. He stalked closer.
“Give me that,” he snapped.
Caleb snatched her glass from the edge of the tub and drained it. “Get over there and bend over the counter.”
“Excuse me?”
He leaned in, putting them nose-to-nose. “Don’t give me any more shit, Samantha.” He jabbed a finger toward the sink. “Bend over that counter so I can see to your injuries, then you can go to bed. I’ve asked Alec to stop by your apartment and pick up some things for you, so you need to call your building people to let him in.”
“Alec has a key, but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to use it. Call him back and tell him to forget it. I don’t need him going through my panty drawers.” She groaned at the thought of Alec going through her stuff. If he found where she kept her sex toys, she’d never live it down. “But, because you’re being so nice, I’ll let you check me out and I’ll get a few hours sleep before I go home. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”
Caleb cocked a brow. “I’m not making any deals with you.” He pointed again. “Counter, now.”
Samantha drew in a deep breath. The sooner she complied, the sooner she could get away from him.
Positioned in front of the mirror, Samantha held his gaze as she gripped the edge of the sink and leaned forward. Caleb moved in behind her. The vision in the mirror turned her knees to jelly. She imagined him taking her just like this. His tall, muscular frame overpowering her. His handsome face twisted in passion as he held the back of her neck and pounded his flesh into hers.
Samantha shifted as her pussy clenched with need. Would he be as intense in bed as he was out of it? Or would he take it slow and easy, teasing her with light caresses and soft words?
Oh, no. There was nothing soft about the man in the mirror. Biting back a moan, she dropped her head, unable to watch as he leaned over her, and braced herself for his touch.
She felt him long before he actually touched her. The heat of his hand burned as it hovered above her skin, as if he, too, was steeling himself. She heard his intake of breath a moment before his fingers danced over her back.
“I did the best I could to wash the dirt off.” Feather light, his gentle touch rocked her. Moisture dampened her panties as her body readied itself for more than first aid.
“Easy. Just relax,” Caleb soothed. “You’ve got a few abrasions, probably from the underside of the truck. Nothing too severe.” He moistened a towel and began to blot it against her back. He worked quickly and efficiently, re-cleaning her scrapes and rubbing antiseptic ointment over them. “Turn around.”
“I don’t —”
“Turn around.”
She huffed, but obeyed. The minute she faced him, he brushed aside the fabric of her shirt, holding it between his fingers as he wrapped his hand around her bared waist.
Caleb slipped to his knees before her. Samantha tipped her head toward the ceiling and prayed he’d be quick. His breath was warm and enticing against her stomach as his fingers prodded at her side.
“I don’t see any glass. It looks like a clean cut, but I don’t want to take any chances since we aren’t sure what cut you. You won’t need stitches.”
“But, the blood.”
He gave her a droll stare. “It wasn’t that much. Probably just seemed like it at the time.”
“Okay,” was all she could manage. She didn’t want to talk about blood and whether she’d need stitches. Her fingers itched to dive into his hair and pull him close. She was wet, her body primed for sex—for release—and the sight of Caleb on his knees threw her into sensory overload.
If he so much as looked at her again, she’d come for sure. Thank God he was completely focused on his task, gently cleaning the cut, and oblivious to her rampaging hormones.
“This might hurt a little.” His brow creased as if the thought upset him.
He tipped a bottle of peroxide over her side, allowing the liquid to drizzle over her wound.
She hissed as the liquid made contact, the muscles in her stomach flexing in response to the blossoming pain.
She clenched her teeth as Caleb poured and dabbed, poured and dabbed. By the time he’d placed the bandage, Samantha was ready for another drink.
Caleb looked as if he could use one himself. His cheeks were flushed and perspiration clung to his forehead.
He cleared his throat and stra
ightened to his full height. “All done.”
A strange flutter went through her chest and she was suddenly unsure of how to handle his newfound kindness. He’d been bossy, sure, but his touch had been gentle, caring. As if she were important.
And thoughts like that would only get her into trouble. Caleb saw her as a duty. Nothing more.
“Thank you. I’m sorry Alec called you, but I’m grateful you were there.”
“You shouldn’t have been there at all.”
Annnnnd he’s back. She rolled her eyes and stepped around him, needing to put some distance between them. “You sound like a broken record. I’m not a saint, Caleb. I’ll not live like one.”
“Someone took a shot at you tonight!” His voice reverberated through the room. “If you don’t give a shit about your life, then at least think about Amanda and what it would do to her if anything happened to you. You’re like a sister to her. She loves you.”
His anger gave her the reality check she needed. How dare he use Amanda against her.
“So, you’re saying I should give up my life? Sit at home every night and twiddle my thumbs? Masturbate until I’m blind? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m saying you need to be more careful about who you fuck around with.”
“Are you volunteering?” Samantha threw the question he’d posed to her all those months ago—the night she’d bought the vibrator—back in his face.
Without warning, he grabbed her arms and jerked her against him.
“Make no mistake about it. If I were to take you, it wouldn’t be a quick fuck.” He crowded her back against the door and shoved his knee between her legs. His hands clenched her arms, holding her still.
She struggled against him, her chest heaving, as he leaned his weight against her, making it clear who held the reins. “I like to take my time, Samantha. There are so many fascinating places to explore on a woman’s body. So many tempting noises to tease from a mouth gone swollen from my kisses.”
Shadow of Sin (The Martin Family) Page 3
