Troy stood, knowing it wasn’t smart to be on the ground if he had to fight. Pa wasn’t above ordering a beat-down on him. “Hawg’s hard of hearing. Thought I needed to get my point across.” Troy had a gun at his hip and a knife in his boot. No way was he letting them close.
Pa gave him a hard stare. “Your sister called your mother. She’s not coming home.”
“Guess she prefers Animal to Snake,” Troy said noncommittally.
“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” Pa said. “Shacking up with that little slut because of some misguided loyalty to Animal? You don’t fool me none.”
Troy felt his jaw tighten. “She’s my old lady, so back the hell off.”
Pa made a deprecating noise. “She’s just a piece of pussy. A cold-hearted killer like you ain’t going to take on an ol’ lady.”
Troy’s temper roared to life. “That’s not a nice thing to say about the girl who’s going to be your daughter-in-law. And you know I don’t like sluts.”
Axel choked on his soda.
Pa’s eyes popped. He was never good with irony.
“Bullshit,” Hawg said. “You bring the whore here, or I’ll get her myself.”
It would have given him immense pleasure to gut Hawg right there and then, but the man and his little boy were looking at them through the shop window.
“Better go test your other grenades, Hawg,” Troy snarled. “See if you got a box of duds.”
He saw Axel trying not to laugh. Even Pervert and Barf had risked a grin. They were faithful dogs to Pa, but he guessed Hawg didn’t count in their loyalty stakes.
Whatever. Troy needed to squelch any doubt about his seriousness. “Tell you what, Pa. You bring Mom to my place for dinner tonight, and if you swear to talk real nice and not to cuss, I’ll let you meet the woman I’m marrying. But no Hawgs allowed,” he added, glaring at the VP.
If Mom thought there was even a speck of hope that Troy would settle down and produce grandchildren, Stacey would be safe for life.
Axel choked on his soda, spitting it across the paintwork of Precious. “Wait. What?”
“Don’t screw with me, boy,” Pa said with a scowl.
“The only one I’m screwing is my fiancée,” Troy said. “Tonight. Seven o’clock. It’s time you were introduced.”
Pa was speechless.
And Hawg? Well, Troy supposed it was lucky that Hawg didn’t shit his pants again.
As for Stacey…
Damn.
Like it or not, it looked like she was about to get a ring on her finger.
Chapter Nineteen
The backs of Stacey’s eyes hurt from computer strain. She could follow the bookkeeping system when her father had done it, but Bill’s accounting seemed erratic. What she didn’t like was that the business seemed to be spending the same amount of money on spare parts, but she saw no evidence of the sales. When she checked the warehouse, she found stock extremely low. It all added up to…not adding up.
Bill’s convoluted explanations didn’t wash.
She decided to change the passwords on the accounts and immediately relieve Bill of all invoicing. She also insisted on getting the phone number of the other employee who Bill had sent on vacation. She planned to get answers.
Massaging her temples, she heard the rumble of a motorcycle and looked up to check if it was Troy. Her heart gave a kick when she saw him, superb piece of human flesh that he was. He stalked toward the office, a hard frown on his face.
Bill instantly disappeared into the men’s room.
“You’re early,” she said.
“Pack up. We’re going shopping,” Troy ordered. “Hope you can cook. I’ve invited my parents to dinner.”
She gaped at him and crossed her arms. “Really? You expect me to meet the man who organized a hit on me?”
“Interrogation isn’t a hit,” he said calmly. “It lasts longer and is a hell of a lot more painful. Besides, he’ll behave tonight because I’ve invited Mom.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better? Does madness run in your family?”
He rolled his eyes. “You have no idea. Lucky I won’t be breeding.”
Somehow, his flippant retort was a spear to the heart. And yet, she knew very well he would never do happy families. Why couldn’t she just accept that?
“Anyway. Once they meet you,” he said, “there’s no way Pa could hurt you.”
She wasn’t so sure about that, but it was a discussion best held at home, in private.
“Let me log out,” she said. “And I need to go to the bank, too.” She wanted to cut off Bill’s access. She couldn’t fire him until she had enough information, but she didn’t want him doing any more damage in the meantime.
She let Bill know she was leaving and asked him to lock up.
They walked out to Troy’s bike, and she waited while he strapped on her helmet, something he insisted on doing. His eyes had gone a flinty color.
“So, what’s this all about?” she asked.
He lifted her onto his bike, although she was perfectly capable of getting on by herself. His gaze warmed and he took her hand. “Congratulations. We’re getting engaged.”
“What?” A shot of unexpected, unbidden joy hit her heart…until she realized it couldn’t be for real. Not with Troy. She whipped away her hand. “Troy, I am not marrying you.”
His gaze hardened instantly, his pupils became steely pinpoints. “Who said anything about marriage? I’m buying you an engagement ring. I have to prove you’re my woman to keep you safe. You can sell it when you leave town.”
She ignored the painful spear of disappointment at his cold declaration and forced herself to keep her voice steady. “I’m not leaving town. I have a business to run. I told you that. Besides I like it here.”
Except for the whole threatening biker gang thing.
“Then just make sure you wear the ring at all times. It’ll keep you alive when I’m gone.” He got on the bike, grabbed her hands to check her grip on his waist, and took off with a roar.
She didn’t know whether he meant he was leaving to rejoin his military unit, or just leaving her for good. Either way, she felt an unexpected pang that he obviously didn’t care what happened to her once he was gone. He was relying on a fake engagement ring to keep her safe from vicious men bent on revenge.
“Fine,” she muttered.
She expected a cheap faux diamond to complete the ruse, but he surprised her by parking his bike in front of an exquisite French jewelry store in the French Quarter just off Bourbon Street.
They walked to the fancy store and pressed the buzzer beside the wrought iron gate that barred the front door, and the assistant did a double take when he saw Troy.
“I guess this isn’t where bikers usually take their ol’ lady?” she murmured.
“Nah. They just pull the ring tab off a beer can and put it on her finger,” he said.
“No need to be facetious.”
“For someone who has never even been to a club, you sure have a lot of opinions.”
“Comes from being snatched out of my bed in the dead of night, threatened, and terrorized.”
He took a deep, steadying breath. “You’re about to meet family from Mom’s side. Unlike Pa’s relations, they’re wealthy. Jean-Paul, the owner, is a jeweler who also owns a fantastic plantation.”
“Oh.” Her chin dropped. She guessed she was being a bit judgmental.
A tall, handsome older man flung open the beautiful iron gate that guarded the shop door, grabbed Troy by the shoulders, and planted a kiss on each of his cheeks. She expected Troy to hit him, but he was grinning like a schoolboy.
“Hey, Jean-Paul.”
“Troy, mon fils! To what do I owe this pleasure?” Jean-Paul asked him, then glanced curiously at her.
Troy pulled her close and put his arm around her waist. “This is my fiancée, Stacey Martin. Stacey, meet my cousin, Jean-Paul. We need your help finding a ring.”
“Encha
nté,” Jean-Paul exclaimed, pulling her to him and subjecting her to the same treatment as Troy. “Come,” he said, waving them to the back of the store and chatting excitedly a mile-a-minute in a delightful French accent.
Within minutes, rings of all different shapes and sizes glittered like the Milky Way in front of her.
“These look expensive,” she murmured to Troy, not wanting to seem rude or dampen Jean-Paul’s effusiveness.
Troy shrugged. “This is the only time we’ll be getting engaged. Choose whatever you like.”
She scanned the trays looking for the smallest, plainest ring she could find. Although it was his money, she couldn’t bear to waste it. She’d never been to the Middle East, but she’d heard enough stories from her stepfather, who was still serving his country, and his friends to know how tough it was. He deserved to keep every cent he’d earned over there.
Sure, like any girl, she liked nice things, but she expected to work and buy them herself. Besides, this wasn’t a real engagement.
Finally, she pointed to a slim ring mounted with a tiny diamond. “Could I try that one?”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “Stacey, I’m proud to be marrying you. I want you to have something you love. People will think I’m a Scrooge if I give you that.” He turned to Jean-Paul. “What do you suggest?”
“You’re marrying a real lady, Troy. Your grandmère would be pleased.”
Troy grimaced. “Don’t go there, mon ami.”
She glanced at him, but his face had closed, so she didn’t question him about the exchange.
“Ah. I have something special to show you,” Jean-Paul said. “Just a moment.” He went into a back room and returned with a ring on a velvet tray. “It is five carets, cushion-shaped, set with pave diamonds in platinum. It will suit your delicate hands, Stacey.”
Jean-Paul slid the ring on her finger. It was the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen, and for a moment, just a heartbeat, she almost believed Troy loved her. She wanted to linger in that slice of heaven just for the sheer joy of it.
“It’s gorgeous,” she said, and could feel her eyes watering. This was going to make it so much harder to split up, even if it was all a ruse. She turned to him. “You shouldn’t spend so much.”
“Would you prefer a biker’s skull ring with glowing eyes?” he asked.
Jean-Paul crossed himself in horror.
She wanted to punch Troy.
“We’ll take the ring,” he said to Jean-Paul, not waiting for her answer. He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and handed a credit card to Jean-Paul.
“But—”
“There are no buts about this ring. You’re mine forever.”
She had to acknowledge he was a better actor than she was, even though this performance was being put on for her safety. Bewilderment struggled inside her. She didn’t enjoy deception in any form.
He grasped her shoulders and kissed her full on the lips while Jean-Paul processed the payment and organized a little box for the ring, pointedly ignoring their PDA. There was nothing tender about Troy’s kiss. He held her close and kissed her, teasing her with his tongue, the sensuality of it clearly making him hard.
When he finally released her, Jean-Paul farewelled them with the receipt and a shower of grand Gallic kisses. It was all more affection than she’d had in a long time, and she was reeling.
When they were safely out of the shop, she turned to Troy. “You spent a ridiculous amount of money on that ring. You should have just bought a cheap one.”
She watched as the glow in his eyes died. “I don’t get to do much that means anything anymore, and doing this makes me happy.”
“But none of it is real. How can you possibly be happy?”
“For the moment, it feels real. And the fact that I spent big will go around Mom’s family and get back to her in a heartbeat.”
“So, you’re totally okay with deceiving everyone, including your own mother?”
“She’ll be fine.”
Stacey’s head reeled. How could Troy play with people’s emotions like this?
Especially her emotions. Her hunger for him was eating her alive. It was like falling down a rabbit’s hole where everything felt so good but was all wrong, wrong, wrong.
She jabbed her finger at his heart. “This is just charade for you, but I’m not that cold. I feel something for you, and it scares me.”
“Then just think of what we have as being real,” he said quietly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He put his arms around her and kissed her, pulled her close like he cared. His mouth was all possession, full of sexual promise and desire.
He pulled back but kept a tight grip on her. “It means do it like you mean it.”
“Even if I could do that, I don’t want to care.”
He might be great in bed, but she didn’t like his biker background or the violent way he went about solving his problems. Hell, she should never forgive him for kidnapping her. But it just felt too good in his arms to stay angry.
“Then I guess we don’t want the same thing,” he said.
“You’re saying you want me to care? That you want to care?”
He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
She stared at him for a long moment, unable to credit his words. “And what if this is just some sexual obsession that will burn itself out?” she asked.
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Why don’t we see if we can burn ourselves out? Have sex until we don’t want it anymore. See if we can get over each other.”
She gave him a withering look. “During our faux engagement, you mean?” she asked. God. She’d feel a lot better if it didn’t, in some crazy way, make sense.
He stroked her face, his palm gentle on her cheek, his thumb rubbing over her lips. “Sure. Why not?”
“Because when it’s over, you’ll hurt me,” she said. “I’ve seen the beast, Troy.”
He dropped his hand and frowned. “What do you mean?”
“When you don’t want me anymore, what will you do?” Her eyes were already stinging. But after what she’d been through with him, she needed the truth.
“I guess I deserve that.” He grimaced. “Stacey, I’ll be straight with you, but you might as well know. If anything, it will be me feeling the pain.”
She would have laughed if he didn’t look so damned serious. “What would possibly make you say that?”
He gazed at her for a long moment. “Because I don’t think you’re cut out to be a biker’s woman. Eventually, you’ll want to go back to your posh life in New York City.” He smiled almost sadly. “It’s okay. I won’t blame you.”
“You think I’m not tough enough? Not slutty enough?”
His smile returned. “Definitely not slutty enough. And far too glamorous for the likes of the Slayers.”
Surprisingly, she could live with that. She stepped up on her tiptoes and put her arms around his shoulders, kissing him lightly. “I’m not changing my look.”
“I don’t want you to. You’re beautiful just as you are.”
She looked at her sparkling engagement ring, a myriad of emotions tumbling through her mind and her heart. Hope, resignation, fear, trepidation, unreasonable joy, and a wash of foreboding. It all boiled down to one thing—this whole situation was insane.
“Anyway. Your parents are never going to believe we’re really engaged,” she said. “Not after knowing each other two days.”
“They will if they think Animal introduced us eight months ago when I was last on leave, and ever since, we’ve been secretly dating when I’ve been in the country.”
She frowned, thinking about it. It could work. “We’d better start practicing our story, then. I’m sure you’re good at lying, but I’m not.”
“I’d rather be burning ourselves out in the bedroom.” He pressed into her. He was hard.
The thrill of arousal coursed through her body. She pillowed her
hips to his. She had no idea where this was going, but she couldn’t get enough of him. She just knew she had some crazy addiction to the man.
After they’d driven back to her place, she went to the kitchen and put the shopping away. He helped, then swept her up and carried her to the bedroom.
“We have to get our story straight for tonight.” He threw her on the bed and climbed over her so she was trapped between his arms and legs.
She laughed. “Why do I think our story is going to involve sex?”
“Our story is always going to involve sex,” he said.
He had that right. Despite his playful tone, he was all predatory animal, already teasing her nipples through her top. “How did we meet?”
She was reminded of her terrifying kidnapping and suddenly wondered if she had some sort of Stockholm Syndrome. She couldn’t imagine any other man ever being as exciting as her captor. She reached up and stroked his hair away from his face, marveling at how handsome he was. He had a wild, untamable look about him.
“Let’s keep it simple,” she said. “We met here at the house.”
“Right.” He unbuttoned her top, exposing her lacy bra.
“What happened then? Your turn to come up with something.”
He reached between his legs, unzipped his jeans, and freed his hard cock. “I already have.”
“Very funny.” She glanced at his erection, needing it with a crazy sort of lust. She wanted him. Only him.
“Okay.” He sat back on his knees and pulled his T-shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor. “Where did we go for our first date?”
She reached out and stroked his cock, her hand gliding over the silky skin. “We need to keep as close to the truth as possible. You took me on your Harley for a ride to the cabin. You wanted to show me how you’d done it up.”
“You’re good at this.” He slid her skirt off, and it joined the T-shirt on the floor, leaving her in just her open top, lacy bra, and matching G-string.
“You need to use a condom. I don’t want to get pregnant.”
“Sure.” He worked his boots off, followed by his jeans, so he was naked, hard, and gorgeous. Every muscle was honed to perfection. The man was in peak condition and very, very sexy.
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