Rourke: Steele Protectors 4

by Mortimer, Carole

  She gave a shake of her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”

  Rourke’s jaw tightened. “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Both.”

  His expression didn’t change. “In that case, we aren’t going back to the reception, or dancing, or making our excuses to the bride and groom.”

  Sophie’s eyes widened in alarm. “What do you mean?”

  “We’re leaving now,” he stated evenly.

  “But you can’t just leave your twin brother’s wedding without so much as saying goodbye to him and his wife!”

  “I’ll send them a text.”

  “Rourke—” She broke off her protest as he turned to glare at her with eyes that glittered as black and hard as coal. A sure sign that other, darker Rourke wasn’t far beneath the surface. Even so… “We really can’t leave without first wishing Logan and August well for their future.” She had grown very fond of the youngest Steele brother’s bride these past few weeks of helping to organize the wedding.

  “Fine,” Rourke bit out. “But one word out of line from you in front of a member of my family regarding not wanting to leave with me, and I’m dragging you out of there anyway. Whether it causes a scene or not. It will be your choice.”

  Sophie didn’t doubt he meant what he said. “I won’t do that,” she assured.

  He took a firm grasp of her arm to pull her along at his side as he opened the door and stepped back into the marble hallway of the hotel.

  He seemed either unaware or uncaring of the fact that the high heels on Sophie’s shoes made it virtually impossible for her to do anything more than cling to his arm and try to maintain her balance as she was swept along at his side.

  One glance at Rourke’s profile, his jaw set, lips thinned, eyes narrowed, and Sophie knew it was a combination of both. Rourke was too angry to be aware of her discomfort and uncaring for the same reason.

  It was the weirdest thing in the world to rejoin the wedding party long enough to say goodbye to the bride and groom and the rest of the Steele family. Nor did Sophie miss any of the speculative looks aimed in their direction as Rourke kept his arm firmly about her waist for the whole of that time.

  She breathed a sigh of relief once they left the reception and were on their way to where Rourke’s car was parked in the underground parking area. Sophie knew it was there because she was the one responsible for booking the necessary spaces at the hotel for the wedding guests’ cars.

  “Where are we going?” she prompted once Rourke had bundled her into the passenger side of his sleek two-seater sports car before getting in behind the wheel.

  His gaze remained icy as he started the engine and maneuvered the car out into the busy early evening traffic. “Somewhere I can question you in private and, if things turn out as I expect them to, no one will be able to hear you calling out for me to stop.”

  Calling out to stop what?

  And should that really have sounded as hot as it did?

  So hot, in fact, that Sophie’s nipples perked up and pressed against the bodice of her gown and between her thighs became hot and wet.

  Chapter Three

  “So, Sophie, are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

  Her eyes widened on Rourke as he towered over where she sat on a couch in the sitting room of his penthouse apartment. She should have waited to see if he was going to sit down before she did so, because she now felt at a distinct disadvantage having him glowering down at her.

  She blamed the fact she was also in Rourke’s apartment for the first time as another reason she was feeling slightly off-kilter.

  Sophie had protested when she realized the direction Rourke was driving. To no avail, when he just ignored those protests and drove to and parked the car beneath his apartment building and then kept a firm hold on her arm as they traveled up to the penthouse floor together in his private lift. All the Steele brothers occupied the penthouse floor of separate London properties owned by Steele Protectors.

  “Well?” He quirked one dark, questioning brow at her silence.

  “What do those options entail?” Sophie couldn’t help but feel curious about what the “easy” and “hard” ways might be.

  He seemed to give the matter some thought. “Easy is we stay in here and you tell me what the hell is going on in your life.”

  “And hard?”

  That dangerous glitter returned to the darkness of his eyes. “I take you to my bedroom and torture the truth out of you.”

  Sophie gave a breathless gasp. “In what way would you be torturing me?”

  “It’s interesting that you’ve asked that rather than why we would need to go to my bedroom to do it,” he drawled.

  Her cheeks warmed. “I’m sure you have your reasons.”

  “Oh, I do, yes,” he taunted.

  She moistened the dryness of her lips. “There really is no need for you to involve yourself in my problems.”

  “The moment I pulled that bastard off you was also the moment I became involved.” A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw. “Now, are you going to tell me who The Boss is, why Jack Henderson sought you out today, and why it was so urgent he had to interrupt my brother’s wedding reception to do it.”

  “No.”

  “Are you absolutely sure about that?”

  “Absolutely,” she maintained stubbornly.

  Rourke shrugged. “Then I guess we’ll adjourn to my bedroom.”

  Sophie shook her head. “I don’t understand why you feel the need to interfere in my life in the first place—”

  “Interfere?” he echoed incredulously, the clenching of his fists telling her his anger was barely contained. “God knows what that thug would have done to you if I hadn’t decided to interfere.”

  He had a point, although Sophie was more inclined to think that Jack Henderson had almost finished with his threats when Rourke arrived on the scene and would have been leaving shortly anyway. As it was, to her mind, Rourke had succeeded in exacerbating the situation rather than defusing it.

  She shook her head. “I told you, this is a private matter and has nothing to do with you or Steele Protectors.”

  “And I told you, because you work for us, you’re family. That means your problems become our problems too.”

  She breathed out noisily. “I’m a receptionist at the offices of Steele Protectors, not one of your active employees out in the field. As such, I’m not integral to the company and can easily be replaced.”

  His lids narrowed, his eyes appearing dark and dangerous. “Is that really what you think after knowing and working with us for three years, that you’re someone who can easily be replaced?”

  Sophie felt the heat of color enter her cheeks at the unspoken chastisement. “I’m just being practical—”

  “I’m past giving a damn what you were just about to say or do and why,” Rourke rasped harshly. “I’m also on a very short fuse right now, Sophia, so I advise you start talking.”

  No one called her by her full name of Sophia anymore. Sophie had always hated it as a child, and as an adult, she thought it made her sound like someone’s maiden aunt. She made sure everyone called her Sophie when she went away to university and had never been anything else since starting work at Steele Protectors. Rourke must have read her employment file to know that her full name was Sophia. The deliberate way he said her full name now had to be another warning of his lack of patience, plain and simple.

  “I don’t—” She had barely begun to give a negative shake of her head when Rourke bent down and pulled her to her feet before throwing her over one of his shoulders and marching out of the sitting room. “Put me down, Rourke!” She pummeled her fists against his muscular back in protest as he strode down the hallway.

  “I warned you,” he reminded grimly at the same time as he delivered a sharp smack to her backside. His hand lingered to explore the fleshy cheeks of her bottom. “What the hell do you have on under here, if anything?”

  “It’s a
blue lace thong.” Sophie wasn’t sure if the color heating her cheeks was from discussing her underwear with Rourke, of all people, or because she was mortified to find herself in this vulnerable position. She was also aware Rourke would be able to tell the thong was merely a triangle of lace at the front and another narrow strip of lace up the crease of her bottom and about her waist. “The material of this dress is too sheer to risk a panty line,” she defended.

  Rourke’s hand continued to roam over the rounded globes of her bottom. “Does that mean you aren’t wearing a bra either?”

  “Rourke—”

  “Does it?”

  “Yes,” she confirmed resentfully.

  “So not only did that guy have his hands all over you, but the only things standing between you being completely naked in front of him was a thin wisp of material you claim is a dress and an even smaller scrap of lace you call a thong?” His voice rose in volume with each word spoken.

  She swallowed. “Well…yes. But—”

  “I’m pretty sure you were present earlier when I said I’m not listening to any ‘buts’ today,” Rourke rasped. “Weren’t you?” He gave one of her bottom cheeks another hard smack at her lack of a reply.

  “Yes. But— Ouch!” Sophie cried out as an even harder smack landed on the other cheek. “Stop doing that, damn you!” She managed to land two more pummels of her fists against his back before she was swung forward and then dropped onto what she quickly realized was a bed. She bounced on the mattress before settling to lean back on her elbows.

  Rourke’s bed in Rourke’s bedroom, she realized from the things she could see lying about the room. A pair of jeans thrown over a chair, heavy biker boots beneath it—she knew several of the Steele brothers owned motorbikes, and Rourke was one of them—a hairbrush on the dressing table, along with several sets of cuff links in a glass tray. The open door of his dressing room revealed a row of the tailored suits and shirts he wore at all times.

  Her gaze returned to him. “Why have you brought me here?”

  “Don’t they say anticipation is half the fun?” he drawled.

  Sophie scrambled to where she could sit on the side of the queen-size bed covered by a navy-blue duvet and having an intricate brass headboard. “That’s when it’s a Christmas or birthday present.”

  “Then let’s consider this an early birthday gift.”

  “What is it?” she prompted uncertainly when Rourke moved to stand at the bottom of the bed and opened the lid of the ottoman there before looking inside.

  He glanced up. “Silk or rope?”

  Sophie’s mouth fell open. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Silk.” In his left hand, he held up a piece of thin black material about a foot in length. “Or rope.” In his right hand, he held up a piece of rope about the same length and width.

  Sophie couldn’t move as the full implication of those pieces of silk and rope also caused her breath to lodge in her throat.

  What other instruments of sexual torture did Rourke have inside that spacious ottoman?

  The reason why they were there was shockingly obvious.

  She had suspected there was another man entirely behind the suave mask of charm and sophistication Rourke presented to the world. A darker, deeper Rourke. She should have realized he took that darkness into the bedroom too.

  Rourke felt an inner regret for the apprehension he could see forming in Sophie’s eyes as she stared at the silk and rope ties he held in his hands. Except, beneath that apprehension, he could also sense the deepening of her earlier curiosity, until it bordered on fascination…

  No matter what alarm bells might be ringing in Sophie’s imagination right now, Rourke wasn’t into BDSM in any shape or form. He had zero interest in having a woman wearing a collar and kneeling on a cushion beside him, or in allowing him to whip her into submission. Any demands he made were physical ones because Rourke had discovered early in his sexual awakening that he was capable of having multiple orgasms. Consequently, he liked to fuck all night, or at least until the woman cried out for mercy from having an excess of orgasms.

  To his teenage sex drive, it was a priceless gift to be able to fuck for hours, ejaculate, and then continue. But his desire to do that, along with his taste in women, had become more discerning as he got older.

  It had taken a year for him to realize it, but for the past two years, Rourke’s desire had been settled on only one woman. Sophie. A woman far too young for him and, when she first came to work for them, weighed down with grief for the loss of her mother. Since then, she had valiantly fought to keep her small family of her father and herself together.

  Two years of celibacy was too damned long for any man, let alone one as physically potent as Rourke.

  But for all he enjoyed sex, he wasn’t into the kinky stuff, and the silk and rope ties weren’t his. Well…technically they were, but Logan had bought them for him a couple of years ago as a joke Christmas gift. Logan had gotten a kick out of seeing the wince on Rourke’s rapidly reddening face when he opened the gift in front of the rest of the family, including their parents. But the moment Rourke arrived back at his own apartment, he had thrown the ties in the ottoman at the foot of his bed and forgotten about them.

  Until he saw that look of increasing curiosity on Sophie’s face when he opened the ottoman and searched through its contents. It was obvious Sophie thought he had an arsenal of kinky toys in there.

  “Silk, I think.” Rourke dropped the rope tie back into the ottoman and took out three more scraps of matching black silk before closing the lid. “Move to the top of the bed, Sophie, and raise your hands above your head until they can grip the top of the brass headboard.”

  “Rourke—”

  “I’m still on a short fuse, so for your own sake, I suggest you stop arguing and just do what the fuck I tell you to do.” It was going to take weeks, possibly years, for Rourke to recover from seeing Jack Henderson’s hands all over Sophie.

  If he ever did…

  Rourke had known from the moment Sophie came to work for them that he was attracted to her. But the brothers had an unwritten no-getting-personally-involved-with-the-staff-or-clients policy. Something Rourke had no problem with because he wasn’t attracted to any of their female clients and they had only one other female employee. Hailey was another protector, and any man brave enough to get involved with the beautiful but deadly Hailey Frost had Rourke’s good wishes.

  Besides which, Sophie had been far too vulnerable when she first came to work for them for Rourke to show any interest in her. A part of him had always expected that when a suitable time of healing had passed, Sophie could give notice and leave them to return to university and finish her degree. Instead, she had continued to sit behind the reception desk at Steele Protectors for the past three years, answering the phone and greeting clients.

  From the onset, Rourke had recognized her vulnerability for what it was and had chosen to take on the role of Sophie’s platonic protector.

  Three years later and that’s what he still was to her.

  It was time for that to change.

  From the fevered interest now glowing in her dark blue eyes, he believed Sophie felt the same way. She continued to watch him as she slowly lay back against the pillows and raised her arms above her head to grasp hold of the brass bedstead. Her expression was anything but innocent.

  Perhaps because she wasn’t as innocent as Rourke had always thought she was?

  He didn’t make a point of it, but he had occasionally overheard Sophie and Hailey talking about the latest date Sophie had been on. As far as Rourke was aware, there hadn’t been that many, and he’d never heard her mention having been intimate with any man.

  Whether Sophie was innocent or not, Rourke knew he shouldn’t even attempt to go there.

  Because he had never been gentle in the bedroom, and doubted he ever could be. The woman gave, he took, and his ability to have multiple orgasms meant he could keep on taking until the woman was an empty husk
and had nothing left to give him. Rourke had always believed he and his excessive physical demands would terrify Sophie.

  The fever of curiosity he could now see burning in her eyes said differently…

  The longer Rourke continued to study Sophie from between narrowed lids, the more she felt as if she was on fire and becoming more and more out of control.

  Not that she had any idea what she was doing, and Rourke wasn’t about to tell her what he was doing either.

  What she did know was that whatever happened between the two of them next would decide if they could manage to maintain any kind of relationship. Even that of friends. Because once a line had been crossed, it could never be uncrossed.

  But hadn’t they gone over that line between employer and employee, even that of friends, the moment Rourke picked Sophie up and threw her over his shoulder, before spanking and fondling her arse as he carried her to his bedroom?

  Whatever Rourke was going to do to her after he tied her to the bed with those black silk ties, she had better take it and enjoy it. Because she very much doubted she would be seeing him again after today.

  Rourke was just stubborn and determined enough that he wouldn’t back down from doing whatever he needed to do to have Sophie tell him exactly who The Boss was and why he had sent Jack Henderson to Logan and August’s wedding to threaten her.

  There would definitely be no going back for them once Rourke knew her father had embezzled money from his employer, who, as it turned out, was something of a crook himself.

  Chapter Four

  She raised her brows. “Either you’re going to secure my wrists, or I’m putting my hands back where they were.”

  Rourke bit his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling at Sophie’s deliberate challenge. He knew it was pure bravado. The uncertainty in those defiant blue eyes was proof of that.

  But if she wanted to play it this way, then Rourke was more than up to meeting that challenge.